


The Sound The Leaves Make In The Heat Of The August Sun

by anderscones



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1d Fic Fest, 1d Fic Fest 2019, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blacksmith Harry Styles, Elf Louis Tomlinson, Faerie Zayn Malik, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, High Fantasy, Knight Liam Payne, M/M, Magic, Prince Niall Horan, Temporary Character Death, Witchcraft, alternatively: he died but he gets better, he died, liam and nialls parents suck and they're ocs, oh damn is he okay, yeah but he died tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 76,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21793627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anderscones/pseuds/anderscones
Summary: by fall out boyhey all! this is my fic i entered for the 2019 1d fic fest, and its been in the works since july 2016. its finally fucking done. im incredibly proud of it, so i hope yall enjoy it!Louis is an elf who lives in the Kingdom’s forest, as far away from the pompous Castle Court as he can get while staying within city limits. He’s a thief out of necessity and is happy enough to steal from the rich when they’re not looking. He notices something mysteriously dangerous happening in his forest one morning and begs for an investigation from the Court, who of course tells him he’s seeing things.Intro a shamed knight, a runaway prince, a blacksmith, and a mage with fae blood who figure something is better than nothing. The King is all too happy to make criminals out of them and run them thinner than they already are just to prove a point to his son. With the combined powers of Captain Pla- One Direction, they figure it out.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36
Collections: 1D Fic Fest 2019





	1. Hello and Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> 8.9k
> 
> and i'm just an arrogant son of a bitch who can't admit when he's sorry

Louis

It always feels like he’s being gifted something every time he leaves the forest. Due to the canopy of entwined leaves and branches above him, he’s basked in dim light. Around him float four tiny luminous creatures that help light up the path he takes towards the sunshine at the edge of the trees. He can feel a faerie gently sliding a daisy behind his left ear and another tugging his hand open to place a smooth, pulsing, pearly stone in it. A cool but not unwelcome sensation runs up his arm and spreads through his body, as if all his veins have grown wider and healthier, chest opening into the feeling of unwanted energies evaporating from his body.

Louis recognizes the enchantment on the stone (Zayn having done it hundreds of times for him) and smiles sweetly at the glowing sprite lounging on the rock in his palm. 

“Thank you,” Louis whispers, while she stretches out and curls into his index finger. As he walks, she places a small kiss on his fingertip, leaving a stain that matches her bubblegum aura. Louis knows it won’t fade for weeks. The tinier blue faerie who was buzzing around his head has settled to stand on his shoulder and is now braiding his hair around the daisy to keep it in place while the green and red ones dance together in front of him, leading the way out from under the forest canopy and into the light.

At the very edge of the brush, they all gather and he says his goodbyes to the Seelie. He thanks them for swimming with him and turning the pond water into a culmination of colours earlier that afternoon. The pink one pouts in his hand and stubbornly refuses to budge when he holds her out. 

“Perrie, love,” Louis says gently, “I’m going out to the city. I’m not sure that you want to come.” He detests how the people in the Kingdom react to these tiny creatures. It’s heartbreaking how hateful they can be for the destruction and chaos that can come from little fluttery wings and a soft glow. 

It’s their own fault, he concludes bitterly, thinking of all the times he’s found these very pixies sobbing quietly over wrecked art and dismantled faerie rings that serve as portals to take them home. It takes weeks to recharge the rings and the girls just want to sleep, want to melt into their house, want to get back to a realm where they can sing as they please without humans trying to catch them for their wings and glittering, magical blood.

The hatred for nonhumans in Horan’s Realm is part of the reason he spends so much time in the forest and away from Cercesia. The city is full to the brim with bigots and snobs who don’t appreciate much of the many species commonfolk are made up of, being so close to the ruler’s castle. They favour humans over all, even if they sometimes indulge humanoids in the citadel. Most humanoids don’t tolerate the lingering hate and disgust and tend to move further from Cercesia, if not out of Horan’s Realm altogether. 

He’s sometimes thankful he’s an elf, and only half blood at that, which makes him feel incredibly guilty at times. It helps him pass much easier than other humanoids, who sometimes have fur or faces that don’t resemble a human’s very much. Even the pointed ends of his ears aren’t noticeable if he leaves his hair long since his human blood dilutes the intensity of their shape and length. If he were full blood, people would notice for sure, as it’s hard to conceal otherworldly beauty and a magic affinity. Many people in Horan’s Realm tend to equate elves with succubi, who are a product of The Old Ones and readily take advantage of commonfolk. They’re very wrong.

Magic and other abilities also separate them. It’s considered high blood to have been born human and without any sort of innate power. It’s not illegal, per se, to practise magic and technically anyone can do it, but it’s definitely very frowned upon. It leads to a lot of discrimination and plenty of nasty looks from humans and those who want to assimilate. Louis just thinks humans are jealous of all the cool shit other commonfolk can do that humans can’t. They really should be afraid more than anything; if the rest of the commonfolk decided to revolt, the humans would never stand a damn chance.

Suddenly, the faerie flies up and pushes her little hands into his collarbones, trying to guide him deeper into the forest again. With sympathetic faces, the two pixies behind her fly over to pull her away from him. A soft bell plays in his ear where the tiny blue one had sat on his shoulder after she was done with the braids. He knows she’s talking to her friend, curls bouncing with every ringing syllable she nods along to, slim hands articulating something Louis doesn’t understand. Perrie stops pushing him and crosses her arms, coming level with his eyes. He sees sulkiness in every line of her face and he fondly shakes his head at her.

“C’mon, Pez, we do this every time. You know I’ll come back. I just have errands to run and I’ll be here again.” The navy one on his shoulder nods, puffy curls bouncing even more, and floats up to take the blonde’s face in her hands, placing a kiss on her forehead before turning around to face Louis. She puts her hands on her hips and zooms closer to his nose. A stern look overtakes her features.

Louis grins. “I apologize for shattering your heart so regularly,” he murmurs to Perrie, who flies sullenly behind the blue pixie he’s been told is named Leigh-Anne. Leigh breaks into a large smile, giggles blooming over her entire expression, and leans forward to place a kiss just below his right eye. He doesn’t need a reflection to know that it leaves a perfect, midnight-blue, kiss-shaped smudge under the crinkles gathered there. Louis thinks he’ll find the mark quite attractive when he can actually see it and he hopes no one will notice it for what it is.

“I will see you ladies tomorrow. I promise to bring honey and tomatoes, and I will try to get my hands on a vial of ice potion for you to take home.” The four of them bounce excitedly and he offers his left hand out in a wave for each of them to touch, Perrie holding his pointer finger a little longer than the others.

Louis sets out again after shoving the stone in the bottom of his pack, pulling his hood up as he walks towards the West gate with Cercesia’s wall to his left. The trees begin to thin out on his right and slope further away from the city as he walks towards the gate. It leaves a several-meter clearance between the west entrance and the forest— a stark contrast to the way the leaves touch the castle’s outer wall further north. 

The soft grass slowly turns into dirt the closer he gets to the access, as it’s more travel worn than the slim walkway near the uninhabited forest he just came from. People have no reason to go around this side of the citadel; it’s easiest to go through the city to get to the east of Cercesia since the north and west of the castle are surrounded by Tredity forest.

If he were to keep walking south past the city walls, he’d run into the lower part of the citadel. Even farther past that, the space opens up into vast mostly barren hills, farms and outposts dotting the land every so often. 

Louis often wonders why the forest was allowed to remain. To him, it seems like a weak point; because of its proximity to the Capitol, it could offer cover to the Kingdom’s enemies. He’s never seen the patrols deep in the west-most trees, where he often finds himself relaxing as he counts and plans his treasure. 

The two guards at the gate eye him suspiciously, as they do whenever he enters the city. Someone who looks as rough as him isn’t a usual visitor to Cercesia, even if he himself is a regular to this gate. They must have ideas about him, but they never keep him from coming inside and he always ignores them in return. Today must be different, though, because they stop him.

“Why’s your hood up?” one of them asks as he steps right in front of Louis, blocking him from entering.

“Sun’s in me eyes,” Louis mumbles as he drags some of his fringe out of his vision. He wants to say more, specifically about how he comes to the city at least once a month and they have never once seen him wear it down, but decides against it.

The other guard rounds behind him and taps at the leather pack he has secured on both shoulders, Louis’ tattooed arms left bare in the heat of the August sun. There’s some rustling around in his bag and he can feel items being taken out as he stares down the human in front of him. A glint of silver appears in his left peripheral. 

“This is a nice dagger.” Louis eyes the blade that was a gift from his step father. It came to him from a homeland he has never visited but still resonates deeply within him. He may not have ever met his birth father, but he refuses to separate himself from the blood he was given on his first day of life just because of that. 

“It looks to be elvish. Expensive,” the guard says devilishly to his friend. “I think I might keep it.” 

Louis feels his hood being tugged back and swallows around the thick lump in his throat, trying to ignore the flower falling from his hair. He reflexively jerks his head away from the fingers pinching at one of his pointed ears and turns around, fully planning to snatch the dagger from the guard, safety be damned.

He finds the guard’s face slack with horror and body frozen with fear. Louis recoils and glances behind him. 

He catches a glimpse of fuschia ripples which announce the apparition of an elf (well, half elf, half sídhe, Louis knows) dressed in a black cloak and an equally dark outfit underneath. The sídhe shimmers with the displacement of energy, ears curved and elongated over the shorn-down sides of his hair. 

Wordlessly, he glides past Louis to the guard with his palm open in a demand for the blade. The man carefully sets the hilt into the waiting hand and slinks back to his post by the archway without so much as a glance at his friend. Louis glares at them and follows the elf into the city, pushing past the man in his way.

He smirks at the idea of humans getting the piss scared out of them, especially by a faerie they can do nothing against. Sídhe are one of the more powerful species of fae and are able to realm-walk between their homeland and the common plane where most everyone else roams. The smug look slides right off his face when the other elf makes a quiet comment.

“You’ve been with the Seelie,” Zayn stares straight ahead as they weave through the people. The mixtures of scents and sounds flood them both and it borderline hurts with how sensitive their enhanced senses are.

“Well, they’re better company than most,” Louis replies coolly, and he hopes it hurts.

A sour expression clouds the mage’s face. His dark hair droops handsomely into bright eyes that have a ring of violet around the edges, uninterrupted except by a tiny freckle on one side. “Yeah, you’re very welcome for saving your life just then, Louis, no need to thank me at all or at least be civil,” he says drily when he half turns around, keeping a steady pace forward. He brushes his long locks back, careful to bring them towards the one side of his partially-shaved head. “You would have fought those guards for your stupid _knife_ and lost if I wasn’t there.”

“Maybe, but at least I wouldn’t have to deal with the displeasure of looking at your backstabbing face any more,” Louis spits back. “And fuck off. I can fight!”

“You’re awful at fighting!” Zayn bursts out, rounding on him in a way that makes his cloak flutter behind him.

Louis catches a vendor’s wary expression. It's intimidating to almost anyone else, but all Louis sees is a child throwing a tantrum. When he notes that Louis is about to interrupt, he begins again. “You’re good at wildly waving a blade and hoping you hit something, then hiding away until they bleed to death so you can steal their shit!”

Louis scowls and kicks his feet where they’ve stopped. He snatches the dagger from Zayn without so much as batting an eyelash at the little dove inked into his hand jumping back in protest. He strides off after thrusting the blade carelessly into his belt and yanking his hood over his head, the top of his ears bending with the effort. He shoves his half-gloved hands into the hood to right their pointed tips and keeps walking through town, passing district after district until he reaches a pub about half way into the upper city. He saunters through the open door and waits only a few seconds on a stool away from the bar until he can feel the air shift around him.

“Go back to your _Court_. Leave me be, you ass,” he snaps to the apparating figure.

Zayn grabs the side of Louis’ face forcefully, thumb pressed right into the center of his forehead with the intention of checking his aura more clearly. “They’ve had to heal you twice since I last saw you,” he hisses into the quiet environment, the faint golden glow of the minor spell barely bathing them in the dim light.

“Yes, and I’m very appreciative,” Louis bounces back dismissively, yanking the vibrating hand away from him. “Now, if you don’t mind, why don’t you hide back in your second realm and let me get on with my business?”

“Why have you been ignoring me?”

“Because you turned over to the King to work for him! After he’s tried to erase us for years!” They were both quiet for a moment, before Zayn sighs deeply with the effort of keeping his anger in.

“I would be dead if I hadn’t, you get that, yeah?”

Louis scoffs. “Even though you could never be caught, right?” He rolls his eyes with heavy sarcasm. Zayn had always bragged about never being seen due to his ability to plane walk.

“They had another sídhe! How do I escape that? She found me in the overrealm!”

“Shut up! We’re _in_ the overrealm!”

“This is the _underrealm!_ ” he shouts, and it’s the loudest Louis has ever heard him get. A bubble of thin, charcoal-coloured smoke shrouds them as the air grows thick. The violet rings around Zayn’s eyes grow to cover them in an amethyst film, leaving no trace of warm caramel or the dark of his pupils. The jackal working behind the bar coughs at them and they both look over. He glares at them with a hard face and points to the door, so Louis grabs Zayn and drags him out of the stale building before any of the early patrons can investigate them for yelling about sprite affairs.

[This Is Gospel - Panic! At The Disco](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=crwE3Tw_k0Q&index=3&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&t=0s)

“Either way, I don’t care. While I’ve been carrying on as we had— stealing just to eat, sleeping anywhere but a fucking bed, dodging people who know me as a thief— you’ve been living with your head in the King’s lap, eating right out of his palm in exchange for dead bodies,” They stand there outside the door glaring at each other, Louis noting that the films over Zayn’s eyes have returned to the usual rings. “You’re content to leave us like that. We’re both doing just what we used to do, but you’ve left me behind in the dirt while you get paid in piles of Court gold. How is that fair?” 

Chestnut eyes bore into his and, while the unnatural violet should unsettle him, it’s nothing but familiar. “How should I have found you, then?” Zayn says with a cocked eyebrow. “Where would I hide you, huh? Should I have snuck out from the castle just to come find you and split my money with you? With Shali watching nearly everything I do?”

“They don’t know who I am! And it’s not like I vanished! You could’ve escaped later, could have sent for me to live with you, anything, really.” A moment passes between them, his partner a little stricken, and Louis rolls his eyes at the lack of response.

“Goodbye, Zayn.”

Louis starts towards the castle at the top of the town, and this time, he knows he isn’t deemed worth following. He can feel it in the air.

  


* * *

  


Niall

“Your cousin is visiting for her coronation at the end of the week, so be sure to welcome her and your aunt and their advisors when they arrive.”

“I will, Da’.” Niall waves as he walks further down the corridor towards his rooms, Liam in tow.

“Sir Payne, keep him in line!” the King laughs. “We don’t need any bastard royals running around because our dear Crown here can’t help himself!”

Liam smiles politely and nods back (despite the barely-concealed irritation packed into his expression) and Niall yanks him forward and around the corner. “I wish he’d shut his mouth sometimes. I swear, he has no trust in me.”

Liam’s eyes crinkle with a smirk. “Well, he shouldn’t, not with you sneaking around as a common farmer more than twice a week.”

“You say that like you don’t sneak around _with_ me, _Sir Payne_ ,” They quickly round another corner and push through the wooden door. “Fuck, he acts like he wouldn’t recognize you from that birthmark on your arse.” 

Liam’s smile grows wider. “Would you?”

“Absolutely.” Niall answers with his own grin.

Niall wanders past his bed, an extravagant four poster with dark wood furnishing and navy drapes. The rest of the room is decorated in a similar theme, though the ceiling is lined with hanging plants of many varieties that stand in place of intricate paintings or tapestries. 

He begins rummaging around for his purses in the heavy oak wardrobe across from the door, pulling out enough gold to buy a whole month's worth of food for the castle.

“Well, as long as he keeps Lord Cowell off my ass, he can pretend to forget me all he likes.” Liam snorts as they move from the plush bedroom into the hallway.

Niall rolls his eyes, slightly skipping down the stairs beside his quarters and squeezing against the wall when a maid comes up with a stack of linens. “Oh, is that all? You’re sure you don’t want him to stop being a raging dickhead instead?”

“Baby steps,” Liam says patiently. “If a heart suddenly showed up in his chest, it might get caught in all the cobwebs.”

Niall bursts into bright laughter and jumps off the last step. They lightly jog out of the castle foyer and into the courtyard, almost slamming into a group of knights coming in from a patrol. “Mornin’!” Niall yells as he spins around one of them.

“Your highness,” they all greet in unison.

A flurry of movement catches his eye but by the time he glances to the bush he could’ve sworn was moving, it’s still and empty. He shrugs it off and drags Liam toward town again, this time breaking into a full sprint down the stony hill. Neither of them speak until they get to the bottom, out of breath and red-faced. 

Quietly, they sneak across the tree-shaded castle wall until they get to a large stone that has been long since knocked out of the border. Carefully, Liam climbs on top of it after shedding his shoulder plates and grabs hold of a thick branch to hoist himself into the tree. He drops a bag with an enchanted waterproof cloak wrapped around it and he stays suspended between the leaves for a moment before jumping down after it. 

It’s been years since they began stealing away to Bressie’s farm. It started with them being little terrors and taking off from their minders, eventually making it to Tredity forest for some fun that he now knows was incredibly dangerous and irresponsible. It evolved into them being teenagers who were too smart and sassy, eventually making the case that they didn’t need everyone watching their every move, that they were responsible enough to take care of themselves. 

It’s how they met Bressie; the forest separates the farm from the citadel, and they'd come across him while fooling around in the trees. They’d made a friend and decided to help him with his chores so they could all have a little more playtime. They never stopped being friends as they grew older and he and Liam were a secret the boy kept for a while until being found out only a few months ago. 

Now Niall fields questions easily, making up an imaginary family with a nonexistent home to cover for himself. Thus, Niall has become a farm boy named Lain that walks around the citadel in his spare time and mysteriously always pays more gold than he’s asked for. Liam decided to do the same, though he has less to hide.

Nobody knows him for who he truly is; his father made sure to keep him and his brother out of the public eye as much as possible for safety reasons. Another kingdom could figure out who they are and kill them just to terminate their line of royalty. Only those from the Capitol know what they look like, and even then only a select few know that they’re the princes; everyone else just assumes they’re noble brothers.

Niall dumps the contents of the bag out onto the grass and separates the clothing inside. He wraps a brown, folded bandana over his neatly-styled hair while Liam takes the rest of his armour off, the heavy pieces discarded one by one and shoved into the soft, durable cloth of the duffel. By the time he’s finished, Niall has stripped down completely and is jumping into dark, worn trousers his father would have screamed at him for even glancing at. He loves them. 

The soft leather boots slide on his feet easily, though they don’t lace up very well, but he doesn’t care about the overstretched cords or the tear up the back of one of them. He feels natural in his burlap top and thinks that if he were born into a different family, a family less royal, he would fit right in. He’s sure it would be a lot of work, but he’s also sure he could do it. 

Hard work feels good. 

As he slips the cord of the money pouch through his belt and drops it inside his trousers, Niall feels free in his charade. He feels like he’s home.

  


* * *

  


Louis

Peering around a bush near the path to the castle, Louis sees a young man with tall, piecey, earth-coloured hair running in front of a knight trying to keep up in heavy armour. They narrowly miss barreling into the group of knights Louis had just managed to creep behind.

“Your highness,” they greet to the one in front as he dances around one of them to pass through, his blue eyes starting to slide toward where Louis is hiding.

He yanks his head back behind the greenery and lifts his legs, hoping his grasp on the bush doesn’t slip or that the wood holding him up doesn’t snap. 

He’s found that even since he was a child, tree climbing has been easy, almost like the branches make him weightless. Hand holds seem to appear out of thin air and he’s never fallen out of a tree, not even the time he took a nap in one and his mother couldn’t find him for hours. She said it had to do with the elvish blood in him, that those in his homeland thrived on jumping from tree to tree and hated to touch the earth. Louis can’t deny that it’s probably why he loves the forest so much; he feels the most comfortable in the trees and they seem to feel the same about him. 

Except this isn’t a tree. It’s a bush. The lowest hanging twigs aren’t more than a foot off the ground and its tiny, thin branches easily enveloped by Louis’ small hands are giving in to his weight. Louis hopes it doesn’t matter.

Thankfully, the prince barrels past him with a death grip on the knight accompanying him, paying no mind to the way the thief is hanging nearly ninety degrees to the bush. They’re halfway down the hill when he decides he can let his feet back on the ground and allows the hedge to spring neatly back into place. 

[Even Steven - Nataly Dawn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k1khpKrZipQ&index=14&t=0s&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A)

He’s never seen a prince’s face before. Most people haven’t, as the King likes to keep their identities private. Louis always wondered if it was actually because they were ugly, but the young man’s appearance dislodges the flimsy theory. He’s actually quite handsome, face relaxed and rested.

He hates it.

 _What an arsehole_ , Louis thinks sourly as he sneaks under the kitchen window. _An entitled brat who thinks he can do anything because he’s a prince. Not all of us were born lucky. Shithead._ He dodges a few patrols on his way to the backside of the castle and stops at the bottom of the enormous oak tree he can see whenever he swims with the Seelie. He jumps up as high as he can and starts climbing. The branches feel solid beneath his feet, the way the ground should but never quite is, and he slings himself higher and higher until he nears the top.

Where he’s stopped, there’s a little open window that looks like it will only just allow him to slip his body through. The castle itself is still a ways away from where Louis is perched and he’ll have to jump if he wants his visit to have any substance. 

Steadying himself, he takes a deep breath and stands to his full height. The tree limb stays in place dutifully as he tests the stability of it and barely sinks as he jumps a little. Louis knows this before he even does it, but the fate in the grass does not look kind for him should he fail. 

Carefully but confidently, he walks back to the thickest part of the tree limb near the trunk and takes a deep breath. There should be other branches in his way, threatening to smack into his head or trip him up or slap at his arms and torso, but there aren’t any. He tries to focus on that as he runs to the edge of his branch and jumps as hard as he can. The solid grey of the castle comes into view and he grabs at the window sill, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

He’s fine, of course, almost having jumped expertly through the window, and Louis feels like he may start crying with relief. He glances inside the dark window and holds the glass pane to steady himself as he jumps down into the empty room with ease. He yanks his hood over his head, pushes the exit open with quiet fingers, and sets about locating the room he means to find. 

It’s not like there are maps of the castle floating around, so he makes do with what he’s heard from people in passing and common sense. He knows he’s looking for a way to get near the center of the structure that hopefully leads to the ground floor. 

The place is a lot larger than he had anticipated and he has no idea what the Court does with all these random, empty rooms. Often, Louis has to hide behind ugly art and even uglier, stuffier tapestries to avoid patrols and members of the Court floating around the place doing God knows what. Nothing productive, he assumes, since all they do is sit on their lazy asses and control the Kingdom through flicks of their wrists and with no actual regards to how the people live. 

Disgusting.

He finds himself faced with many locked doors he doesn’t trust himself to pick without getting caught by the constant stream of guards pacing up and down the hallways (really, where does one find so many large, muscular people willing to battle anytime?) so, he goes around them by opening unlocked rooms and climbing from window to window. It’s terrifying, yet oddly comforting.

Eventually, he makes it into an open, circular room that’s sunken into the foundation with doors lining the walls. To his right, there’s a set of massive, ornate double doors that are guarded by two knights. Louis immediately knows he’s found what he’s looking for. He has no idea how to get into the room itself, especially without anybody noticing he doesn’t belong inside the walls at all. _This would be easier with two people_ , he thinks. One to do the distracting and one to do the stealing. It’s even better when the distraction can stop existing on this plane to keep from getting caught. 

As if on cue, the air around him vibrates and a hand with several rings clasps his shoulder. He curses quietly as he turns to see Zayn just behind him.

“I see you’ve got nothing better to do than to follow me,” Louis states with a deep scowl, secretly horrified that he’s been caught.

“You stealing away into the King’s home is much more interesting than watching Prince Niall play pretend.”

Louis doesn’t know what that means. “I _will_ fight if you try to take me.”

Zayn laughs. “You wouldn’t win,” And then, “There’s always a secret way in and out of important rooms,” he murmurs, looking at a tapestry on their right before pushing it aside. A wooden door sits where the gold and burgundy cloth was hung.

“Are you sending me to my death?” Louis asks suspiciously, straightening up. There’s a glint in Zayn’s eyes that he’s unsure what to make of.

“I’m trying to catch up with our debt,” he answers with a nervous look behind him, ushering him closer to the door. “Would you hurry, though? She’s coming.”

Louis doesn’t have time to question his loyalty. He relies on what used to feel right and yanks the door open, stepping in and shutting the wood neatly behind him. Silence overtakes his senses and his eyes adjust to the dark lighting quickly, though he does notice that the hallway curves identically to the shape of the open room he was just peeking into. He paces down the corridor with light feet and the hopes that he doesn’t get caught between now and getting back to town. If he doesn’t do this right, he’s not likely to survive.

Anxiety screams in the back of his mind that he’s being betrayed, that Zayn is trying to get him killed, but he shoves it down because he knows he’s irrational when it comes to Zayn leaving. He understands that it was death or become an assassin for the Court and that the latter was the best alternative for someone in his position. There truly isn’t any reason to not trust the mage; he could have sold Louis out long ago, and it’s not as if Zayn is ever ruled by his emotions— as if there are emotions for him to be ruled by. Louis knows it was never about being malicious. He just can’t help but feel gutted about it.

There’s another door, this one more solid and with a large lock on the handle. Quickly, Louis kneels down in front of it and takes the cool iron into his palms. He centers himself and concentrates. The inside shows itself in his mind and he tries to memorize the intricate metal work as best he can before taking off his pack and rummaging around for an even smaller satchel. 

Inside, there’s a row of lockpicks and rakes nestled into the leather. He slides a pick and rake out and gently sets them in the keyhole, rotating them to the puzzle that’s still fresh in his mind. He grins when the lock pops open, allowing him to discard it and turn the handle to the door.

Inside the vault, it’s brightly lit and a great contrast to the pitch black hallway. Around the edges of the room are jeweled necklaces and shiny, polished rings in glass cases. To his left is another heavy door that he’s sure is keeping him and the two knights on the outside separated.

Louis flicks open the cases and empties them all straight into the bottom of his leather bag. He spots a cabinet across from him and carefully slides the drawers out, grabbing several different coloured crested cloaks with silver-lined hems and piles up stack after stack of coins onto them. The cloaks feel silky and cool against his fingers as he ties them into bags and places the bunched material into his pack. He doesn't bother taking any solid metal, no cups or weapons— it’s just too heavy. 

He turns around to face what he originally came for.

Four crowns lay in the middle of the room on cushioned pedestals, three of them glinting silver in the torch flames and light charms. The one on the middle-right is gold with the most jewels and gems, all glittering and reminiscent of sunrays shining through water. Louis’ fingers twitch just looking at it, but it’s not worth stealing. Even if he takes it, no one would buy it. It’s too hot and too many people know what the King’s crown looks like to be tempted to, same as the Queen’s crown next to it. The jewels, however…

He starts digging the gems away from their settings, and doesn’t stop until they’re all popped out and placed neatly into a side pocket of his bag. He opens the chest of drawers again and digs around some more until he finally pulls out a few large, silk squares that match the cloaks and wraps the two outside crowns in them, then carefully places them into his bag on top of everything else. A bit of plum-like silk catches Louis’ eye and he snags it before sliding the drawer shut, knowing his mother would adore it. 

He takes a look around the ravaged room and feels a sense of pride and accomplishment. With the two princeling crowns and every shiny bit and bob tucked safely away in his possession, he’s ready to leave.

Zayn’s words echo through him. _There’s always a secret way in and out of important rooms_. And if the secret corridor is in his sight, having lead him inside, there has to be a hidden way out as well. Or at least that’s what he gathers from the cryptic words. 

He begins moving tapestries away from the stone and tugs on any hangings to see if they open a hidden giveaway wall. When that yields nothing, he sighs, sits on top of the drawers, and tries to have a hard brainstorm. He wiggles around restlessly and starts when one of the legs lift with the uneven floor. Louis glances down in contempt and widens his eyes when he notices a flash of metal peeking out from the rug, so he quickly hops down to pull it back and investigate. 

A square slat of wood with a circular, iron ring sits in the floor and when he lifts it up, he finds a ladder leading about six feet into the ground. Quickly, he jumps down into it, pulling the wood shut behind him. He runs through the darkness for what seems like forever until he reaches another ladder and climbs it. He pushes at the wood above him with all his strength, hoping no one around him can hear his struggle. It gives way after a few good pushes and Louis blinks into the light as it shines down around him.

The sun is bright in his eyes and it’s confusing at first. He pops his head up cautiously and looks around. The sound of leaves rustles around his head, still falling off the trapdoor. Louis stares up and frowns. He’s come up outside the city wall right in the beginnings of the forest, and the stone of the border stares at him from only a few meters away. With a thump, he lets the door fall open and scrambles out of the hole, jewels and metal clanging around in his bag with the effort. He stands stock still when he hears a pair of voices, listening to see if they’re coming his way. Quickly, he snaps himself out of terror and scrambles up the nearest tree, climbing just high enough to be out of sight.

“Bressie’s gonna have a cow!” voice one says from far away.

“It’s his birthday, Liam, he deserves it,” the other responds and Louis can see a tuft of dark hair approaching. He stares hard at the first man’s face, noting the kind features and recognizes him as the knight the prince was toting around. He nearly falls out of the tree when he catches the face of the second man trotting alongside the knight. 

His skin looks clean and relaxed and untouched by worry lines, fingers immaculate with their clipped, rounded nails and unchapped lips wrapped up in a pleased smile that crinkles the corners of his clear, blue eyes. They read nothing of fear or weariness. A body full of health and ease is covered in clothes that don’t match the wellness of the person in them. Louis feels instant resentment.

A prince is skulking around in commoner’s clothes and Louis wants to drop from the tree to interrogate this manchild on exactly how he could dare to wear the clothes of someone he and his family spits on for gold. The only thing that stops him is the large man stepping in time beside him. Louis is cocky and competent ( _fuck_ what Zayn said) but he knows when he’s outmatched.

The man is made of pure muscle and has proper training. Swiftness and scrappiness can only get him so far against a knight of Horan's Realm, and then there’s the prince, who has probably had training as well.

 _Well, now I’ve got a decent chunk of your wealth,_ he thinks triumphantly as they pass under his tree, still chattering. Louis waits until he can’t hear them to jump down and run through the edge of the forest towards the lower city outside the wall as his spoils jumble with each other inside his pack. 

He’s got to get rid of it all, preferably by replacing it with gold.

  


* * *

  


Harry

Sweat soaks his clothes, causing his shirt to stick to his skin everywhere it touches. It makes him wish it wasn’t mid-morning and that he was in the lake just outside the walls of the city. He just wants to feel cool, but instead he’s working by a kiln and hammering melted metal into sharp edges, humid air clogging his lungs and suffocating his skin. He can’t feel a breeze, even with every window unblocked and the doors flung wide open.

But it’s work and it’s his, so Harry doesn’t complain, not to his customers, not to his friends, not even to himself.

Just as Harry strips off his drenched shirt, revealing a slew of tattoos, a whistle comes from the door.

“Is that the kiln or is that you, Hazza?” Lain jokes from where he enters the sweltering shop, brown bandana placed perfectly on his head to keep hair out of his eyes.

Harry grins at the two men coming into his store, if a bit sadly to himself. “Let the King hear you speak like that and he’d have your head.”

Lain shakes his head and shares a quiet look with Liam. “I don’t care much for what the King thinks.”

Harry doesn’t condemn the farmer for feeling that way but frowns to himself. He glances to Liam carefully to gauge the knight’s reaction towards what could be considered treason, but he only smiles politely at the young man next to him. Harry untenses with the knowledge that his friends aren’t afraid to speak so blatantly against the ruler of Horan’s Realm, not even the one who belongs to the Court.

“How’s the Crown’s sword coming?” Liam asks as he toys with a bladeless handle.

“Finished,” Harry answers nervous and high, playing with the soaked ends of his hair just below his ear. “I’m not sure if he’ll like it. It’s balanced well, I think, but I don’t know if he’d appreciate the styles or how I laid the jewels under the rosin…” He trails off when Lain snickers to himself.

“What?” Harry nearly snaps. Annoyance crawls under his skin at the thought of Lain implying that he’s being dramatic.

“Just, from what Liam says, the Crown Prince already adores you.” And he looks amused, like he’s in on a secret.

“The whole Court loves your work, Harry. It’s why Prince Greg wants effects personally made for him.”

He supposes that’s true but can’t quite sweep the ugly feeling from his gut. He glances at the pair as he fiddles his fingers on the edge of the metal he meant to stick in the kiln before they showed up. “The whole Court?”

“Absolutely!” Lain provides from the doorway where he’s trying to lap up the fresh air before muttering out, “I’m going to buy you a cooling charm. This is ridiculous.”

Harry furrows his brow as he pushes at the sword laying on the anvil. “Not to be rude, but I’d rather you spent your money on yourself.”

Lain makes an appalled face in response. “Nah mate, don’t worry about it. You could use one and I get good magic for cheap.”

Harry smiles sheepishly at that and nods his thanks. He would really appreciate it, and if Lain insists, who is he to decline?

“Anyway,” Liam steps in casually, “I just stopped over to see if the sword was ready. I’ll come by later to pick it up, probably just before sundown.”

“Excellent,” Harry responds as he wipes his brow free of sweat. The pair leave Harry alone with nothing but sick nerves. He’d love to just get over the fear of a prince hating his work, to be relieved and only focused on how hot his shop is, but the very thought of Prince Greg rejecting his gift makes him want to leave the citadel and disappear from the earth.

Harry takes a deep breath and tries to forget his anxiety. He grabs the abandoned sword and shoves it back into the oven with a frustrated sigh, staring into the flames until they turn silver into red.

  


* * *

  


Liam

Liam thinks of all the things he’s meant to do when he gets back to the castle. He and Niall have come out to Bressie’s farm to help with the work that ramps up this time of year, and they’re currently skipping all the things they need to finish around the Capitol. Niall is supposed to be training in archery, not that he needs it. He’s infinitely gifted, even if his father would never notice. To the King, Niall is just some skinny troublemaker who doesn’t always set a “good” example for the people.

Unlike his father, Niall actually cares about things that happen around the Kingdom and often tries to reason with the man to change his ways. It never goes well. Normally, it ends in a grating scolding on his father’s part while Niall stares blankly into space, pretending not to break to pieces when the scolding turns into actual insults about his character.

It’s one of the reasons they started sneaking away to Bressie. The manipulation and berating the King administers so freely was around even when they were children. Running off, away from their babysitters, was a quiet rebellion that helped heal them both. 

Liam knows he’s playing a dangerous game right now. The King, as callous as he usually is, is actually allowing him to lead an investigation of a book that researchers have recently found. It’s not quite as simple as other investigations he’s conducted; the book is supposedly full of dark magic that is very, very old and the castle hasn’t been allowed to use magic for a long time. It was banned indefinitely in the Capitol due to an incident regarding Niall and some of Lord Cowell’s magic battalion, then extended to the entire citadel. 

Liam could understand the decision but he knows that, really, it was put in place to drive a wedge even further between humans and the rest of the commonfolk. It alienated many people who depended on magic to get through their days and destroyed their livelihood further than it did when all they’d get were sneers. Ultimately, the decree began to ruin the economy because non-humans (incidentally, pillars of the community) left in droves, so the King rolled the law back to just the Capitol.

It’s a miracle that he’s been tasked with keeping the spellbook safe and is allowed to appoint people to study the magic within. There are concerns about the book, and he’s been told by Lord Cowell (who was unfortunately the first person he thought to ask about it) that it may very well contain spells that were used to lock The Old Ones away.

There still has to be more investigating, and he’s supposed to be finding other commonfolk around the castle who can at least read the spells. Maybe he’ll ask that sídhe with the piercings and tattoos to give a stab at it. The book was found uncovered and well maintained between Cercesia and Taro. It had been amongst the shelves of a long-forgotten library, though weirdly much cleaner than any of the other dust-covered tomes. 

Liam is sure someone had found it not too long before their historians did, possibly leaving it there out of fear of some of the details inside. He’s just glad they’ve got it now so it can’t be used for nefarious purposes. The power of it is unrecorded as of now, but it doesn’t take a professional opinion to understand the calamities it could cause if it were to fall in the wrong hands.

But instead of doing much-needed investigating, he’s eating lunch with his two closest friends.

The three of them are crowded onto a bit of fence surrounding the Breslin farm, way out near the back of the plot of dagan berries. Liam shakes the guilt from his head and decides to forget about The Old Ones for now.

The board under him shakes with activity and he catches sight of Niall positively vibrating with laughter at something Bressie has said. Liam watches on with pride in his chest, though envy is settled in right next to it.

He never feels like he doesn’t belong, but sometimes, when his two only friends are together, he feels a bit like a shadow. It seems like they complete each other with no room for Liam or anyone else. They have this sort of easy slide between them that he hasn’t experienced with almost anybody and he can admit that he’s jealous he doesn’t have the luxury of a soulmate in either of them.

He doesn’t mind, really. He just wishes he had it.

“Payno!” Bressie half-laughs. “Payno, back with us?”

Liam focuses on the boys to his left and bursts into a full smile. “Always.”

  


* * *

  


Louis

With gold weighing his pack down, Louis makes his way through uptown. He was able to get a deposit to keep one of the crowns off his selling table, and with that, paired with the sale of some of the gems, he has enough to live comfortably for a while. There’s enough money to get a place in the citadel, but he’s not sure he wants that. Louis loves the city, just not enough to become a citizen under the King and Court. It’s too expensive and too unappealing. He wants nothing to do with funding that nonsense, and he likes being a thief anyway. At least, that’s what he tells himself.

He has family to take care of a few towns over, which is the only reason he’s near the Capitol in the first place. It’s easy to rob incoming carriages and the city is full of rich people with tonnes of cash and precious belongings. It helps that some of them are too stupid or too proud to admit when they’ve been hustled. He needs to make sure his mum and siblings have enough to eat. It’s a bonus when he can get pretty ribbon and lovely-smelling soaps for his sisters.

Then there’s the children outside the walls to think about. Louis is known well enough in the slums of the citadel for people to greet him by Tommo and smile amiably at him. Most of the people don’t have a home to stay in, and some are like him, but there are kids, too. Kids who have no parents or home, kids who were dropped off and forgotten, kids who ran away. No one takes care of them, save for each other. And Louis.

The older brother in him makes it hard to just let a group of children fend for themselves in a kingdom so cruel, and he’d hate to see them resort to his own profession. So he helps them, gives them food and money and watches after them to keep them safe and full.

He strolls down the road a short distance until he reaches a shaded area with soft grass and berry bushes. It’s a stark contrast to the dark, boring buildings and the dull dirt of the path. Really, he’s surprised the Court hasn’t tried to uproot the bushes to take back to the castle. Stealing from the poor and that. 

Of course, only the kids have unrestricted access to the area. Zayn put enough fear into the others to let them know that the kids come first, and if any of them thought they could pull a fast one and steal from them, they were wrong. And very much dead or dying. Louis kept the respect alive between him and everyone else.

A round stone is flung at his feet and he jumps to avoid his toes being smashed.

“Halt!” a little blonde girl yells theatrically. “State your name and business!”

He stands up as straight as possible and puts a serious look on. “Louis Tomlinson, delivering goods and trade.”

She regards him suspiciously and nods, milky eyes clouding even more with her concentration, waving him past what he assumes is an invisible gate.

“Thank you, Luxie,” another blonde girl says. She’s older, in her mid-teens. “You keep us safe every day.” She smiles fondly at the young child and turns to Louis.

“Hi, Janna. Brought you guys a lot this time,” he says warmly, jiggling his pack so that the coins clank together inside. “I’m gonna need Lannis or you to come with me to the shops, though.”

She nods and walks off with Lux’s hand in hers just as a smaller, green boy sidles up nervously, thumb in his mouth. He raises one arm up and Louis lifts him on his hip, sticking his tongue out to watch the boy giggle around his thumb.

“How are ya, Charles?” 

The little brunette gives a small shrug.

“Louis?” Janna asks quietly.

Lannis stands behind her, bright brown eyes boring a hole right into Louis’ own blue ones. His furry ears twitch high above his head and Louis frowns.

“Are they still bothering you?” he murmurs, trying not to upset the boy’s sensitive hearing.

“Right fucked up,” he nods solemnly. “Hurts like a bitch.”

Louis grimaces. “Well, I’ll see what I can do about that today.”

“If Zayn’s around-”

“He’s not,” Louis cuts him off sharply and instantly feels like he’s stung himself. The three kids around him stare with wide, hurt eyes. “Sorry, lad,” he says softly. “You know how it is right now. If I catch him, I’ll ask him to come take a look.”

The two older children nod and Lannis turns around to the group of kids he’s meant to be babysitting while Janna is out. The three of them know it’s an empty promise.

“Is Zayn really not coming back?” Janna asks in a small voice.

Louis adjusts the scaly toddler on his hip. He thinks of how he was even able to come by the gold lining his knapsack. He sorely wants to think that his closest friend might come back to him, at least. He knows it’s wishful thinking that Zayn would run away from his job.

But he did help Louis betray the ones who forced him into employment, so maybe there’s hope.

“I’m not sure, love.” And he’s as honest as he’ll ever be.


	2. Wake Up!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw child abuse? niall is like 25 and it’s not so heavy, but it still stands. if you'd like to read this chapter but skip that part, ** starts the major abuse and **** ends it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 8.7k
> 
> when the walls start crumbling, maybe you'll see.

Niall // [Sometimes I Feel Like A Motherless Child - The Absurd](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ndBaLERR3qI&index=4&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&t=0s)

As the weather cools down, the forest becomes more and more brown, the air just that much more crisp in the mornings. Farm work with Bressie amps up as they prepare to harvest the last of their crops and, as a result, Liam and Niall are there every day helping as much as they can.

His father and minders try to catch him before he leaves each morning, wanting to coax him into attending lessons or parties or meetings. He nearly always dodges them or else convinces them without giving too much away that he’ll be more available when all the leaves in the forest have fallen off.

“You’re lucky your brother is in line before you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t spoil you so much,” his father told him once. He suspects there’s an entirely different reason.

He and Liam spend so much time going to and from the farm, it becomes a routine: wake up before the sun does, get changed into peasant clothes, go to Bressie’s, come back before the sun goes to sleep. His skin is tanned and his hands are harder in the palms. He can disguise the latter as archery practice and playing his lute too much, but there’s not much he can do to justify his bronzed skin. 

It shouldn’t surprise them when one day they get cornered as they come back to the castle for dinner. Niall is one of two princes and Liam is the next promising head knight. Even with them being the ones usually entrusted with watching their peers for strange activity, they should have understood that they weren’t untouchable, especially since the situation with the crown room a few months ago. It put everyone under investigation (because how could someone have done it without inside help?). But they didn’t even consider it, which lead to Shali, the Court’s second sídhe, dragging the clueless pair of them to the throne room.

Fire is burning in his father’s eyes. Niall can tell that whatever this is about, it won’t end in anything short of condemning them to not leaving the grounds for a long while. As adventurous and rebellious as Niall is, he wouldn’t ever dare interrupt his father in this state, and he surely won’t defy whatever punishment awaits them. He’s learned his lesson enough times to know when he should and shouldn’t push.

The four of them don’t say anything for a long time, the boys too afraid and Shali too smart to explain for the King. He knows that Liam is as paralysed as he is. Fear runs through Nialls veins, somehow both too hot and too cold at the same time, and his breathing picks up. He tries to hide it as best he can. It’s something he’s learned over the years, that sometimes it’s best to just stay as still as possible after making his father angry, because how can you do something wrong or catalysing if you’re trying to stop existing?

Finally, his father speaks. On the outside, it would fool anyone with the calm that surrounds his words but Niall knows better. There’s a low rage simmering just below the surface of the casual tone.

**

“Where have you two been going during the day?”

Whatever answer he gives will be wrong. He breaks out of his previous strategy and lurches forward minutely, hands out in front of him. Tears well in his baby blue eyes and he doesn’t know what else to do besides plead weakly. “Da’-”

His father interrupts harshly. “Where,” he demands lowly, “ _have you been_.”

A fat tear escapes and rolls quickly down his face. He can only fish-mouth pathetically in response.

“And _you_ ,” the King finally spits, getting up angrily and shoving an expensive finger into the metal covering Liam’s chest, “ _you_ were supposed to make sure he wasn’t getting into any fucking trouble,” Some spit lands on Liam’s face but he’s either wise enough or too afraid to wipe it away. “I should kill your miserable arse right here.”

Niall quickly shoves his frame between his best friend and his father.

The King scoffs nastily. “Why have you two been skiving off your Court duties to help some sorry farm-boy? Haven’t I taught you not to associate with that kind of scum? We’re royal and they’re dirty, life-sucking creatures, not to mention the kind of danger you put yourself in by just exposing yourself to their kind.”

That comment sets Niall’s soul on fire. Bressie is not scum— Bressie is kind and boisterous and works harder than his father ever will. None of the people he’s ever met outside the castle walls have ever been rude or merciless to him, offering kind words and patience, genuinely sorry whenever they bump into him or spill something on him. They’re always so full of life and have a certain type of peace he’ll never hope to achieve, even with all the obstacles in their way that mainly stem from rules his family set over the years.

His voice comes out hard and confident, surprising himself. “Why do you think that way when the people of our realm make us into the great land we are?” He’s still a little watery, but altogether sounds reasonably convincing. “The people outside this Capitol are humble and honest, unlike the Court. Liam is the only one out of all of you within these walls that I can actually trust.”

His father reaches out in the small space and wrenches at his son’s collar, hauling him even closer before throwing him to the ground, causing his head to bounce off the stone of the floor so hard that he can hardly keep awake. Something warm and wet pools in his hair. Liam lunges out to catch him, lift him, anything really, but Shali has a sharp claw to his throat before he can complete his step.

The King rounds on Liam, whose face is steely even with fear boiling behind it. “You,” he hisses, “are lucky your father is who he is, otherwise you’d have been dead the moment I knew what was happening, you disgusting boy,” He steps back and snatches Niall up by the arms then turns back to the knight. “You get to explain to your parents why the three of you need to be out of the castle by dawn. Your unknighting happens tomorrow morning in the herald’s square. Be there before the sun rises or I’ll track down your sister. I trust that you don’t need me to elaborate.”

The King turns to his bleeding son in his arms. “You don’t get to go anywhere in this castle without Shali, and I’ll be damned if you ever get to leave again until I marry you into another Kingdom or until your brother dies.”

Liam and Niall share a short look that seems to go on forever, recognizing the crushed shape of their own souls in one another. Then Liam speeds out of the room and Niall can feel the shattered pieces of his heart tinkling along the floor.

He barely registers being dragged through the castle to his rooms. He’s tossed onto his bed, neck snapping back so hard he fears it might detach from his shoulders. His body floats away from his consciousness. As he goes under, he can hear venomous words spat quietly from his door, sending tears spilling onto his numb cheeks.

“ _Fucking disgrace, you are._ ”

****

  


* * *

  


Louis

Louis stretches and his joints pop all along his back and shoulders, even getting one in his neck. The forest is quiet, the chill in the air accompanied by a clear, blue sky. He pulls a heating charm out of his pack and leisurely walks over to his pond. He sheds his top and yanks off his boots, trousers coming next before shoving all of it into his pack. 

The charm in his hand is begging to be activated, so he brings the smooth, glass sphere to his lips and breathes on it softly, quick to drop it in the pond at his feet to keep from burning the tips of his fingers. Almost immediately, steam rises up from below the water with bubbles disrupting the glassy surface.

Tentatively, Louis dips his toes in, groaning in relief at the lovely temperature. He submerges himself and stays under so long he thinks he might fall back asleep, the warmth and serenity of the water calling for his consciousness. After about five minutes of peace and murky green, he decides he should come back up for air and he’s about to launch away from the soft, squishy bottom when his sensitive ears pick up a light noise. He knows it’s loud above the surface and a few voices follow it. They’re shouting.

Louis makes the decision to stay hidden away and hones in his ears to try to understand what they’re saying and where the voices are coming from. He can tell that they’re turned away from him, so he risks it and propels himself away from the mud just as a surge of energy pulses through his body. It leaves a sick feeling in his veins.

He peeks his sharp eyes out, the shell of his pointed ears breaking the water.

About six meters away, there’s a group of what Louis assumes are commonfolk. They all look massively different, their sizes and shapes not similar to anyone else around, though they’re all dressed the same— long black robes that reach the ground with wide sleeves and hoods. But he can barely focus on that, not with the giant, horrifying creatures slinking out of a grisly hole in the ground.

The hole itself is making faint screeching sounds, chilling Louis right to the bone, and the creatures sniff around tentatively which makes him want to run from the small pond without a second glance back. He wishes he were fast enough.

A few black, furry masses supported on four legs have red oozing from their mouths and their matted, misty fur is full of what Louis can only guess is decimated flesh. Others have scales ripped out of their skin that leave gaping wounds behind. One similar to a bird comes flying straight up out of the pit and more follow it to the surface, including humanoids that crawl eerily slow from over the edge with their foggy energy flickering and swirling around them. The smell of death starts to reach him from where he sits beneath the water.

It’s only a matter of time before they start to smell him too.

Slowly, he lifts an arm out of the water and pats around for his bag on the bank, eyes still on the terrifying sight in front of him. His hand makes contact with the soft cloth. He figures he’s got about a ten second head start. 

Steeling himself, he counts to three before sinking the short foot to the floor and launching himself up from the bottom. He barely lands on his feet on the dry ground and starts running. He scrambles up a tree and very nearly flies through the air from branch to branch, hastily adjusting the pack against his naked shoulders.

He can hear the people yelling below him. “What the fuck was that? Did you see what that was?!” a voice shouts.

Louis doesn’t want to hear the rest, doesn’t stick around to. He can make out “calm down” and “forest animal” through the blood in his sensitive ears, and he’s thankful as all hell that he can’t hear anything else. Like something following him.

He can’t be sure what any of that was, but he can guess.

_Not good, not good, not good._

They were meant to be horror stories told to baby siblings in the dark. Hushed history tossed to the side, becoming legend more than reality because nobody is actually stupid enough to mess with creatures older than the earth itself because _what is your fucking problem_. People don’t just magic The Old Ones to this plane.

Of course he couldn’t be sure that’s what it was, but no matter what he saw, it couldn’t have been good. Things that come crawling out of a ragged hole in the ground smelling of decay and looking the part were guaranteed to be evil, right?

Louis reaches the edge of the forest out of breath, heaving his pack off his shoulder and yanking clothes out. He puts them on, looking back every few seconds to make sure he’s alone.

As much as he hates it, he’s only one person, and he would endure breaking his pride down into pieces a million times if it meant keeping his home and family safe. So he jumps from the large ash tree and runs and runs until he’s at the castle, pushing past people and getting called names when he accidentally knocks into people too hard. He only gets as far as the main hall before some guards stop him.

“What’s goin’ on, little one?” a guard asks patronizingly.

He heaves big breaths into his cramping lungs. “Creatures… forest,” he wheezes, doubling over and feeling his diaphragm light on fire as his damp hair slaps onto his face.

“Aye,” another one says on a laugh. “Drunk, are you, elf?”

Louis nearly punches him in the mouth. “Fuck off,” he spits, danger burning in his voice. “The King,” he pants. “I need to see him.”

“Do you have an appointment?” the first one asks.

“Yeah, I planned watching creatures being summoned from the depths of hell in advance,” Louis hisses as he straightens out, breathing turning into something normal.

The small group shares a look before one steps forward with a stern palm on Louis, pushing him towards the outside. “Off you go, elfling.”

He can’t believe it. “Are you serious?!”

“People come in here all the time with little fake stories just to try to meet the Court,” the tallest one explains with disgust tingeing his voice. “Or they’re drunk. You seem lucid enough, though. Make an appointment; maybe you’ll get to meet your heroes next time.”

Louis turns around and barely bites his tongue on the thought that he doesn’t want to meet any of those ugly shitbags. He’s about to say as much, but he notices that all four guards have their hands on the hilts of their swords. So, he settles for a calm, “When they come here, make sure the King knows you lot are the reason Horan’s Realm was so unprepared.”

[Novocaine - Fall Out Boy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hjtNPyVwMps&index=5&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&t=0s)

He strides slowly into the cool air, keeping his composure until he reaches the castle walls. His breathing picks up and he looks about frantically. He knows that making a scene won’t do anything but get him arrested, so he sprints off to the lower part of town, stopping at a courier’s stall to send a letter to his mum and even shells out the money to get a teleporting delivery mage that will get the message there the fastest.

He jogs to the garden that is mostly barren in the Autumn light and finds Janna as quickly he can.

“Lou!” She greets warmly, one of the babies in her lap giggling.

“Janna, love,” he interrupts quickly, tugging his pack off. “No questions, just do what I ask, please,” She looks bewildered, but nods anyway as Louis pulls out bag after bag of coins. “Get all the kids, take a carriage to Devlin and find me mum. Find her, stay with her, her name is Jay, and she should be waiting for you.”

Terrified green eyes flash. “Lou-,”

He puts a hand in her hair. “No, no questions.” All he wants to do is cry. “Make sure the carriage goes lakeside— do whatever you have to to stay away from Tredity forest. Use all that gold if you have to, I don’t care. Just _stay away from the forest,_ ” he stresses desperately. Tears wreck his voice, but he refuses to let them fall. “Give whatever’s left to my mother and let her know I’ll be up as soon as I can.”

“What do I tell them?” Janna whispers, the baby in her lap trying to regain her attention.

“It’s just a trip.”

“Lannis-”

“Let him know what you know, just keep it as quiet as you can.”

She nods solemnly and goes to hurriedly grab some of their belongings and collect the younger kids. Louis watches her for about five seconds before he has to turn away and hurry to the West gate, wondering if he should go back to say his goodbyes to the Seelie. He wants to go grab the rest of his things, but is it even worth it?

He comes into contact with a large, soft mass with warm, dark eyes. Louis pulls back and swears he’s seen him before. His friend with all the tattoos doesn’t seem so familiar, but Louis would bet everything on it that he’s met the one with the fire-shaped birthmark on his neck. It only takes a second more to place him and he’s is flooded with relief.

“You know one of the princes.”

Hurt flashes in the kind face before him before it’s replaced by a mask of normalcy and a soft smile. “Not sure what you mean.”

Louis furrows his brows and glances to his gangly friend with bobbed hair, then looks back. “You’re like a knight or something. I saw you and the prince-,” The man (Liam, his brain supplies) gives him a sharp look that stops his ramblings. “Whatever. I need your help.”

Liam turns away brusquely and keeps walking the way he originally was. “I can’t help you.”

“I saw a coven summon The Old Ones,” he whispers desperately when he catches the boy’s well-muscled arm. Liam turns, throat mid-swallow, making his birthmark bob. The curly-haired friend with the moles and wide mouth speaks before the knight can.

“That can’t be true,” his deep, confused voice comes. “No one is supposed to be able to bring them back.”

Louis sets his jaw. “I saw it with me own eyes, curly.” _I’ll fistfight you, pretty boy_ , he thinks bitterly.

He’s about to respond when Liam grabs them both, frog marching them towards the castle. “Okay,” he says in a hushed tone. “Keep it down; I definitely believe you, but you should know that the King personally had me unknighted.” Something about that statement sends a thrill of pride through Louis’ stomach. Paladin turned rebel. How delightful.

“Liam?” Pretty Boy asks, quietly alarmed.

“It’s one of the rumors we were meant to investigate, and I’m sort of regretting that I missed those briefings while I was out with Lain. Maybe I’d have caught it before it happened.” The curly one is about to say something else before Liam stops him. “Harry, please.”

They hurry along in silence after that and when they reach the gates, a few guards regard Liam as “Sir Payne” and nod their heads. The group of guards Louis encountered earlier stare at him with bug eyes and they almost miss it when Liam addresses them.

“Where’s the King right now?”

They all snap to attention at the sound of the authoritative voice. “Not to be disrespectful, Sir,” the one who called Louis an elfling says, “but is it wise for you to be here?”

“It’s important,” he shrugs.

The guard nods and leads them through the castle until they reach what Louis can guess is the throne room. He recognizes a lot of the interior and remembers almost running into someone right where Liam is standing. 

With a deep breath, he pushes the thick, towering doors open.

As soon as the King sees him, his face turns red, and Louis suspects that the only thing keeping him composed are the two guests the ex-knight has in tow. He’s sitting in a large throne with plush, navy cushioning and silver trim, the arms and borders of the chair gilded in gold and looking every bit expensive as they probably are. Louis thinks he can see the head of a griffin sewn into the space behind the King’s head. There’s one other throne sitting next to him in the middle of the room that looks almost identical, save for the krakken embroidered in the seat back. 

Both princes are standing in the corner of the room, the younger one with his jaw dropped and staring directly at Harry, who seems like he’d be looking the exact same way if he wasn’t actively schooling his features in the presence of royalty. Louis spots Zayn lounging in a chair behind the thrones and refuses to stare too long, lest someone connect them.

“I thought I told you never to step foot in my home again,” the King starts curtly.

Liam gets right to it, possibly to make sure he can get everything out before the King decides to throw them out or kill them. He gestures right to Louis. “He says he saw The Old Ones being called.”

The King’s jaw twitches. “And why should I trust you or your judgement?”

“Because though I’m no longer part of the Court or the Table, I still care about this Kingdom and castle.”

“Get out.”

“The Kingdom is in dan-,”

“Get out!” the King snaps. “Get out, or I’ll have you removed, and you won’t be going back to whatever shit hole it is you now call home.”

Louis opens his mouth to snark back angrily and attempt to convince the supposedly-powerful man that they need to be worried, but a scarred, calloused hand reaches out to quiet him and tugs him along out of the room. _It’s probably for the better,_ Louis thinks as he drinks in the burn scars all up the outside of the forearms attached to the boy dragging him along the stone corridors.

“What now?” he demands when they’re finally outside the suffocating castle walls. Louis thinks he really should have known better than to hope that the King would actually be worth something.

Liam grimaces as he heads into the citadel. “We figure it out ourselves.”

  


* * *

  


Zayn

It’s hard to sneak up on Zayn. Between his natural lean towards being observant and all his senses being gifted to him by his sídhe and elf blood, it’s actually nearly impossible to catch him off guard. The only time anyone could hope to find him vulnerable is when he’s dreaming. He gives credit to Louis for them surviving their nights, since Zayn knocks out like the dead. Louis used to tease him and ask if he wasn’t part vampire, which is ridiculous because you can’t be anything but whole vampire.

That is his only weakness, he thinks.

Which is why he finds a little brunette prince sitting on his chest after he’s turned in for the night, pinning his hands to the mattress.

[Way Down We Go - Kaleo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UzXuQbcp8Yc&t=0s&index=19&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A)

“Sneak me out,” Niall demands fiercely. “Right. Fucking. Now.”

He can see the moonlight wash over Niall’s weirdly-tanned, mole-dotted skin. He sees that his hair is dark and floppy and that his lips are uneven. He sees that his eyes, which only ever used to be bright, are dull and red-ringed with an accompaniment of dark circles beneath them. 

But most of all, he sees anger, an emotion Zayn can honestly say he’s never seen in the prince’s features. He’s a bleeding heart and wears it on his sleeve, but anger? Anger is unfamiliar.

“Why?” He asks blearily.

Niall has his answer ready. “Because I saved your life,” he rushes out. “You owe me.”

Zayn yawns. “Yeah, and if they figure out it was me who snuck you out, you’d be the reason for my death, too.” He regards the desperation in the other boy’s face for a moment. “Why don’t you do it by yourself?”

“You know Shali is supposed to be watching me,” Niall answers simply, and Zayn turns that over in his head. It’s true that a human would have trouble sneaking past a sídhe, who can essentially turn invisible and still see everything around them.

A moment passes between them.

“Alright.”

He sits up, pushing the prince off easily, and snatches up a mishmash of clothes from the chair next to his bed, shoving his feet into the first boots he sees. Niall scrambles to pull his one-strap bag and bow over his grey-cloaked chest to rest on his back next to the quiver of enchanted arrows. Zayn can feel the paralyzing potion on them from where he sits on the edge of his bed. He wonders where the prince got it from.

“Where are you going, anyway?” Zayn asks as he laces up.

The reply comes freely. “Not your business.”

“To Sir Payne, no doubt,” he comments emptily. The air grows tense and it has him glancing up in exasperation. Niall’s face is drained of colour. “You know that’s the first place they’ll look, right? I remember that blacksmith and someone else is bound to as well. Surely Prince Greg will, and they’ll ask around to find you two eventually. That’s how you were gonna find him too, right? The blacksmith?”

Niall chews on his cheek and clutches the strap of his bag. Zayn finds a “yes” in the lack of an answer and raises his eyebrows incredulously. 

Niall relents. “He’ll try to fight that coven by himself if he has to.”

“And you want to help?”

“Have to,” he corrects stubbornly.

Zayn prods carefully. “Do you know the elf?” If he does, maybe Sir Payne does too and has convinced Louis to join. Maybe he didn’t even have to.

“No.” He must read the disappointment on his face wrong, because he hastily adds, “I still want to leave if he was lying or mistaken. The elf’s story isn’t the only thing motivating me; I have nothing here, and I want to start something new. I won’t have much to do until my father tries to marry me away. I don’t want this.”

With a deep breath and a silent nod, Zayn stands up and leads the prince out of the room.

  


* * *

  


It’s not hard, but Niall absolutely would have never gotten past the front doors by himself. He was leading the way at first and almost turned right into Shali’s back. She was lazing her way down a hall in the overrealm, hidden from the prince, but Zayn felt her magic and yanked him backwards around the corner behind himself.

As soon as they recalculated their path, they headed speedily through the doors in the kitchen and Zayn boosted Niall into a tree on the castle side of the wall, his hood not moving a single inch from where it sat neatly over his earthy hair. The prince climbs it with familiarity and jumps down onto a knocked-out stone that Zayn had never noticed was missing. 

He shakes the realization out of his head and transfers himself into the overrealm, allowing him to avoid whatever physical obstacles the underrealm might have built. All he can see is the pink, glittering, untouched lines of the overrealm melding to the world every non-sídhe considers normal.

Zayn feels the inner peace that only comes to him when he’s in this natural state. Everything looks the same but completely different. No man-made objects can follow him here physically; only the blurred, shimmering outlines of living, organic material and the earth remain solid. He can still see synthetic objects in a fuchsia tone, but if he tries to touch them, his body slices right through them like they don’t actually exist. They might as well not in this realm.

Louis always asked what counts as organic and what doesn’t, but Zayn can’t really explain it. Some things are more corporeal than others and their tangibility varies. So far, the only things he’s ever sure of is that the flora stays colourful and his feet never sink into the soil beneath him. He can float through the air in a way that a humanoid, who could withstand the harsh elements of the land above the earth, once described to him as “otherworldly.” It’s the only description that fits how he feels when he can’t walk along a corridor on the top floor like the people around him do in the underrealm.

The magenta outline of a fully-coloured Niall glimmers as he looks around patiently for the mage to reappear. He phases back to the underrealm and feels a piece of himself fall away. 

Zayn lets him lead the way, weaving in and out of the city expertly until he’s on the South Eastern edge, just inside the city’s walls, where he can only assume the blacksmith lives. Niall stops short in front of a door and stares blankly. Zayn can see him clenching one of his fists, the other uncomfortably open, something he recognizes as a nervous gesture in the prince.

“What?” He asks.

Zayn can barely see Niall’s face around the cloak hood but he catches a glimpse of him chewing on the inside of his cheek. “What if he blames me?”

“For getting banished?” Zayn clarifies in confusion. “Why would he do that? When the pair of you went out all those times, _he_ made the decision to do it with you. You didn’t force him. He knew the consequences and you were _both_ the reason you got caught. It wasn’t just you.”

Niall drops eye contact and raises his hand to knock, but steps back at the last second. “Could…?” 

Zayn doesn’t ask, just steps up to the door and knocks hard three times.

  


* * *

  


Louis

“Uhm,” Harry starts. “How will this work?”

And that really is the big question. They need that answer before any other.

“We need to find the coven before they break The Old Ones’ last bonds,” Liam answers simply as he digs around in a chest for the written record of his research.

“Oh, of course!” Louis exclaims bitterly as he rocks forward on the dining chair. “That explains it all.”

Harry’s head snaps to him. “You don’t need to be rude,” he clips out.

“Well, I’d say sorry,” Louis replies breezily. “But I’m not.”

Harry responds irritably but Louis suspects there’s a boiling disdain hidden somewhere underneath it. “Don’t be so impatient.”

Before Liam can interject and before they can bicker any more, a flurry of knocks sound on Harry and Liam’s door. They all exchange glances as Harry stands to answer it, giving Louis a hard look as he goes. When he opens the door, Louis sees Zayn peering into the room. A nervous face peeks out from behind him and Louis recognizes it as the younger prince dressed in a charcoal shawl. He pushes his way into the dim room and stops just before Liam, who takes him into his arms immediately.

“We need to go,” the prince says hurriedly as he pries himself from the strong embrace. “You and Harry need to pack and then we have to leave.”

Harry stops them. “Lain, what’s going on?” he asks quickly.

“Harry, there’s a lot happening, but right now we have to leave. The guard will be looking for me,” Lain explains, though Louis could have sworn that neither of the princes were named Lain.

Zayn walks through the entryway and shuts the door behind him, violet rings focused solely on Louis.

[crushcrushcrush - Paramore](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UTu8kzfXJf4&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=7&t=0s)

“Before I go anywhere with you,” Harry huffs ruthlessly at Lain. “I need to know who you are.”

The room gets quiet at that. Louis doesn’t really want to go anywhere with the prince, either, but it feels strangely more personal to the three men in the middle of the room staring at each other.

“Harry,” Lain starts cautiously. “You know me. Maybe not by my real name or profession, but I promise that you know me.”

“What’s your real name and profession, then?” Harry challenges. His eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw is set in such a way that it almost surprises Louis. Even for all the bickering, it looks too hard on his soft face.

Lain turns red with embarrassment. “Niall. Prince Niall.”

“Hmm,” Harry hums with anger still hot in his eyes as he turns to Liam. “And were you really a knight? Did you actually get thrown out of the Court?” Liam tries to answer eagerly but Harry stops him sharply. “You two have been _lying_ to me for months and all I have ever done is been honest. Liam, I took you in without a second thought. Lain— _Niall_ — I mourned your fucking death, only to find you sitting alive and healthy in the King’s goddamn throne room like you belonged there.”

Louis glances at Zayn. The air is full of magical shockwaves made of awkwardness, radiating out of Zayn. It’s a miracle that the others can’t feel it, even through their human genes.

“Ha-”

“I don’t care. Why do we need to leave?” he asks harshly with his arms crossed and posture tight.

Niall and Liam share a look. “I’m not sure how much Liam’s told you about what happened when I… disappeared, but the Court’s gonna be after me for running here. I knew where to look for you two, and so will they.”

“They know you’d come to us?”

“Who else would I go to?”

All of Louis’ discomfort amplifies in his chest at the soft admission and it seems to quiet everyone else, too.

Harry eyes Zayn inching closer to them. “And who are you?”

“I’m employed under the King and I no longer wish to be.”

Louis’ heart soars with that simple admission, but Harry remains suspicious. “Why should we trust you?”

The elf turns in exasperation, his patience having been summited hours ago. “Because, he’s a criminal under the thumb of the Court.”

Harry looks to Zayn, who nods. “I was meant to be burned alive, but Prince Niall suggested that I trade work for freedom and heaps of sterling. I snuck your boy out for you, so I’d appreciate it if you stopped looking at me like that.”

“Sorry if I’m a bit guarded,” Harry clips out angrily. “But I’ve just been thrust into this ‘Old Ones’ bullshit and I’ve apparently made friends with people who lie to me, so I don’t think I can really trust anyone right now,” he finishes, voice firm yet fragile. Liam and Niall at least have the good sense to look sorry.

“Haz,” Niall starts, pulling the grey hood off his head. “We couldn’t let it get out what we were doing.”

“You mean you didn’t trust me to not say anything.” Neither of the men respond and Harry scoffs. “Look at that— you got caught anyway. That’s why Liam came to me, why you fell off the face of the earth. Except you weren’t Lain the farmer, getting executed for stealing a knight away from his duties, you were Prince Niall, getting grounded to his castle.”

“Harry,” Liam tries but Harry snaps.

“I’m going to pack. You should too.” Harry disappears into one of the two closed-off rooms without another word, and the rest of them stare after him in silence.

Liam clears his throat awkwardly. “I’m… gonna go get my bag ready.”

“I should go back and get one of my own. I wasn’t really planning on running until I got here,” Zayn says, already backing out of the stone house, escaping quickly and shutting the door quietly.

Liam stepping into his room leaves just Niall and Louis in the loud silence. They eye each other wordlessly and all Louis wants to do is share exactly how he feels about royalty. Anger bubbles up inside him, but he tamps it down expertly to keep what’s left of the peace in their little group. He settles for a question to the prince instead. 

“Do you trust him?” he asks about Zayn with a nod to the front door.

“Not with my life, but I don’t think he’ll sell me out.” Louis nods at that because, yeah, that’s fair. “Do _you_ trust him?”

He thinks of all the times Zayn came back for him, can’t count the times the mage bailed him out of sinking situations. He thinks of how not once did Zayn ever take him for granted— always complimented him, always made sure to say thank you, always helped when he was asked to, was always there for Louis’ sisters like they were his own. He thinks of every time his deep wounds never stayed long enough to fade into scars and how fiercely his friend would argue when someone made a disgusted comment about his pointed ears. 

He thinks of the last time he saw Zayn free. He thinks of the desperate way Zayn shook his head at the alley where Louis was scrambling from, fear and firmness in those brown-and-violet eyes that pleaded “ _Don’t come after me._ _Keep yourself safe_.”

He thinks of how he feared the worst when he didn’t see for weeks the boy he put his life in the hands of every day for fifteen years. He thinks of how Zayn didn’t even blink at him when they passed each other on the street two months later and how that might have hurt worse than thinking he was dead. 

He thinks of the olive branch riskily extended to him the day Zayn lead him directly to the crown room. He thinks about Zayn sneaking the prince out, despite knowing it could get him killed. He thinks of all the resentment he knows came from a place of confusion and broken pride and sleepless nights spent crying.

He thinks it’s time to let go.

“Yeah,” he replies neatly.

Niall bites at his cuticles. “Because you know him.” It doesn’t come out accusingly, but Louis feels like he shouldn’t get comfortable because of it. He doesn’t say anything (in case his confirmation is dangerous) and just traces the etches in the table with a light finger instead.

“My father said we should have been expecting someone to come save him since Shali could smell someone all over him- half-human, half… something. She thought it could have been elf because it was so close to Zayn, but still different. Said it was overwhelming, like it was someone he spent all the time with. No one ever came, though,” Niall continues with his gaze glued to the floor.

Louis knows the prince isn’t an idiot. As much as he wants to say that all the royals don’t know a damn thing, he knows that the boy standing in front of him isn’t stupid, not when he’s connecting Louis’ pointed ears and the almost enchanting features with his forced casual comment on the mixed commonfolk that should have stormed the castle for Zayn.

“He didn’t want me coming back for him,” Louis murmurs to the table matter-of-factly.

Niall grimaces and tsks. “That might have been for the better. They were ready to kill anyone within a twenty-meter radius who looked slightly too pretty.”

A long silence passes between them and neither decide to pick up the conversation again. Zayn comes back maybe ten minutes after Harry reemerges, Liam already finished. 

“Where are we going?” Harry asks as they all don their bags, looking around at one another. Niall adjusts his bow over his cloak and Liam rests his hand patiently on the hilt of the sword tucked neatly into a sheath on his hip.

“Well,” Zayn starts. “Not the forest, obviously. Is there somewhere else we can go where they won’t look?”

“There’s cabins by the lake we can squat in. Owner’s been trying to sell them for ages,” Louis suggests, leading the way to the exit carefully.

“Sounds good,” Zayn replies, catching the edge of the door when Louis swings it open.

“Wait,” Niall stops them almost frantically from inside, making the pair eye each other in mild alarm before turning to the prince. “We have to buy it.”

Louis’ eyebrows skyrocket into his hairline. “Why? We need to save our money for when we absolutely need to buy things, not just waste it away on a living arrangement, especially when we can get it for free. Besides, the less people who know where we are, the better, even if they don’t know us. That old drunk could match our little ragtag team if someone questions him about us.”

“It’s only fair,” Niall argues stubbornly as scratches the back of his elbow.

Louis huffs incredulously. “There’s nothing about this that’s fair.”

“All the more reason to do this right.” Liam interjects. “It’s one of the few things we have control of. Why not take back some control?”

Louis is sure he looks as sour as he feels, can feel his hip cocking out and his lip curling. He has to remind himself that they’re kinder people than he expected. Fighting with them only hurts their chances for putting The Old Ones back to rest.

“Fine,” he relents, swallowing a scoff that rises up in his throat. “But you three could do well to learn to be crafty. Resources run out and you’ll find yourselves in trouble if you can’t think without them.” He turns back into the night air and sees torches and levitating orbs of light, absently hearing Zayn usher the rest of the boys out.

“We better get going, lads,” Louis whispers to the group behind him and they head fast towards the lake, five sets of quick feet pattering along the dirt path to a cabin they’ll probably call home for a while.

  


* * *

  


[The Run And Go - Twenty One Pilots](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y1qFTEXPiqQ&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=8&t=0s)

Louis grumbles as the other boys hide in the shadows, having sent him into the tavern to talk to the cabin owner. He knows he’s the least likely to get recognized out of all of them if he wears his hood and that he has the best chance of charming his way out of trouble with his light elven features. But he still likes to keep a low profile. It doesn’t do well to be on the run from the King’s guard and then let everyone know what your face looks like.

He buys two drinks with a frost enchantment on the glass and takes it to the unkempt man pointed out to him. Louis schmoozes his way through a conversation he honestly couldn’t remember if you bribed him, giving a fake story about how he just moved to the citadel as a jeweler. He explains that needs to find a place to stay, that he values his privacy, and would like to buy this man’s most secluded home.

He stomachs the greasy hand on his knee and gives a dazzling, shy smile. The man across from him probably doesn’t know what clean water tastes like, and Louis almost throws the whole thing away when he’s told that one thousand gold and a kiss out by the stables earns him the Northernmost cabin.

But he sucks it up because he’s an adult.

He returns to the boys waiting across from the tavern with dagan berry ale washing away a taste he never wants to know again, brass key in hand.

“We don’t get to meet your boyfriend?”

“Fuck off, Zayn.”

When they get to the cabin, it’s a basically-empty single room. There’s a wood burning stove in the back left corner with a wooden table in front of it, four chairs surrounding the edges. A door sits begrudgingly next to the oven and in the other corner farthest away from them is a bed that might fit two of them comfortably, a fireplace in the middle of the wall on the right. Louis can see Niall and Liam looking incredibly underwhelmed and he laughs to himself a little.

“At least all the windows have curtains,” Zayn jokes as he sets his bag down by the door. He paces through the empty room. “One of you can take first watch. I was woken up.” He gives Niall a look. “Tomorrow we should all share what we know about the situation and try to learn each other’s strengths.”

As Harry sets his own packs down, he says carefully, “Shouldn’t we try to figure this out right away?”

Louis is about to back him up—why _wouldn’t_ they want to put a stop to this as soon as possible? But Liam speaks up calmly.

“From what we know, it takes a long time to completely free The Old Ones from their binds. Right now, they’re guaranteed to be weak. They’re basically pets to that coven at the moment.”

Louis wrings his hands and glances at the blacksmith, who looks as anxious as he feels. “You’re sure?” He knows what he saw and it was downright terrifying. They looked angry and hungry and not at _all_ weak.

“No,” Liam answers slowly. “But if they’ve already gained all their strength by tonight, or even next week, preparing tonight instead of tomorrow will make no difference.”

Louis supposes that that makes sense and it doesn’t exactly make him feel better, per se, but it does allow him to relax a little. He catches sight of Zayn beginning to strip down to just pants, stuffing all the extra clothes into his pack. It’s so familiar that a thought pops into his head. “Don’t suppose you lot have had to be on the run much?”

He catches Harry’s careful eyes and stares hard. Louis didn’t mean for it to sound condescending and hopes it didn’t come out that way.

“Liam’s been on missions like that,” Niall supplies as he absently fiddles with the string of his bow that’s still across his chest.

He suspects it’s not quite the same. Louis pads over to one of the chairs and slips his boots off to tuck his feet beneath him as he sits down while Zayn burrows himself under the covers of the bed. “Don’t get comfortable. Everything you need should stay within arm’s reach at every given moment.” 

He hears Harry start a fire in the stove behind him and watches Niall produce a light-stone from a bag, tapping it twice and setting it on the windowsill by the door, flooding the place with a soft, blue glow. Warmth starts seeping into his back just from Harry’s body heat and he nearly purrs in relief, glad for his super-sense of feeling. 

“Everyone is suspicious and everyone is dangerous. If something feels wrong, it is. If someone gets caught, _don’t_ be an idiot and go after them— we’ll regroup and figure it out, because I promise that’s the best chance we have of surviving.”

“It sounds a bit cynical,” Harry comments as he fiddles with some tinder.

“It’s realistic,” Louis shrugs back. Niall is still standing by the door and Louis doesn’t even attempt to lower his voice, knowing that Zayn might as well be dead where he’s snoring. “Are you any good with that bow?”

“I’d better be. Didn’t work my arse off for thirteen years to be shite,” he snorts as he walks around the space a little, taking in details here and there. After a moment, he removes the single-piece from his back and unstrings it.

Louis smiles to himself and thinks that the royal might not be so bad.

  


* * *

  


Harry

“How do you know Zayn?” Liam asks Louis a little while later from where he’s peeking out of the window by the stove.

“We grew up together,” Louis replies, guarded. “We’re basically brothers. Me mum raised us until we moved down here a few years ago to take some strain off her. She’s got six other kids to take care of and we were old enough to support ourselves.”

“By stealing from the kingdom?” Harry challenges, thoughts swirling in his brain about Louis’ comment earlier about not paying for the cabin. His anger with Liam and Niall is venting itself in annoyance towards the elf, but doesn’t take it back.

Louis turns and gives him a hard look. “We stole from people who don’t know what to do with their heaps of wealth. The way the King rules is backwards; he keeps the rich rich and takes from the poor. People are starving in the streets, falling hopelessly ill, being killed by guards or the wealthy who profit off their poverty and sickness. The people who can afford to live well within the outside walls don’t care about any of that, and we took from _them_ ,” he spits out. “So, yes. By stealing from the King.”

Guilt fills Harry like a balloon. He knows how callous the King can be towards people.

Something quiet and fierce crawls up Louis’ face. “There are kids,” he grits out, “who would be dead right now if Zayn and I hadn’t cared for them. Do you think there were any nobles getting in line to take them in? Does the King have a system in place to keep orphaned children from starving to death or to keep them healthy? No. The poor, the disabled, the non-humans? We’re forced to operate in this shitty Kingdom and that’s almost impossible to do when our _almighty ruler_ is the one dragging us down.”

Harry swallows sheepishly and glances at Liam, who doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to, it seems. His face gives away more truth than he could ever speak. He looks to the runaway prince, anger and abrasiveness starting to bubble in his gut at the mere thought of Niall being complicit in something so cold-blooded.

Niall doesn’t even flinch. “My father is a cruel man ruled by greed and superficial opinions.” He gets up from their table and walks to the stove, putting another log of wood into it. “People do suffer—it’s something I saw firsthand every time I would leave the city walls. I help people where I can, but I’m just one person and I can’t undo his laws or make him see how awful his rule is for the people.”

Harry sighs. He remembers the day Liam came to him with purple rings under his eyes and humiliation written all over his usually-soft, honest face. He knew exactly what had happened without actually knowing. He’d heard of an unknighting happening in the market square and felt sickened. It took nothing to connect the dots. 

Since then, he doesn’t think he’s truly seen Liam happy. He doesn’t talk about his family the way he used to—doesn’t talk about them at all, actually. When Harry had asked if his parents were okay, he’d simply responded, “I don’t know. I’m not their son anymore.” Liam eventually told him that he got caught sneaking to and from Lain’s farm and that the King didn’t appreciate him shirking his duties just to visit a farmer. Harry can feel the coded undercurrents of that statement even more now.

Harry had been raised well-off. His parents had money to live comfortably and when they passed, they had left payment and instructions for the local blacksmith to be his mentor. When his mentor died, he’d inherited the shop and profession while Gemma had moved to Taro to fulfil an apprenticeship with an alchemist there. He never had to struggle to survive, but he could have easily been cast away as an orphan if his parents weren’t able to cover the cost of his mentorship. 

He’s never been outside of the walls farther than his home and the lake, so he’s never seen the parts of the city that are truly dilapidated. The idea of it is unfamiliar to him, but he knows it has to be true with the way people talk about the poor, or the way he’s seen others being arrested for love, due to gender or species.

Louis’ jaw sets just before he speaks. “Go on, lie to me,” he murmurs brutally. “Tell me you know what it means to suffer under the King.”

Harry nods once. “I won’t lie. I don’t know what that’s like and I wish I understood the extent of the issues. I’m sorry for giving you the impression that I don’t care or that I’m clueless.”

Silent surprise takes over Louis’ face, like he wasn’t expecting Harry to be so open and honest with his response. Harry considers it to be a step in the right direction for the two of them. 

Louis just nods and asks, “Do you guys know how to play liar’s dice?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a [visual gallery](https://andersconesgallery.tumblr.com/x) and it's best viewed on browser. the boy's photos are in chronological order and are parallel to the progress in the fic, top to bottom.
> 
> [celia's playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1h0AxitSUh67QgkTIxhOhp)  
> [my spotify ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0Pd4o93KLkbJXMTiJxNsMq) // [ youtube playlist ](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A) (songs linked in fic) 
> 
> shout out to my beta https://userkant.tumblr.com/ and artist celia https://louisprideflag.tumblr.com/
> 
> my tumblr: anderscones.co.vu


	3. Tear Up These Old Wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5.3k
> 
> to the bottom i'll sink.

Louis

Zayn woke up and switched patrol with Louis, who later switched with Liam and Niall. Harry stayed awake through the night, nodding off here and there at the table. Louis noted that it might do them some good to bond with everyone quickly, just to eliminate a shift. It would save them a tired party member and give them more time to sleep.

In the morning, they all gather around a sleeping Harry at the table, Liam choosing to stand as the others take seats. Niall prods at Harry’s shoulder and he jolts awake groggily.

“Alright, Louis,” Zayn starts. “What did you see the other day?”

He takes a breath, dredging up the memories he’s spent the last twenty-four hours trying not to think too hard about. “I was bathing in the woods when I heard yelling and the ground started to… groan, I don’t know. When I came up from under the water, I saw a huge coven surrounding a pit that looked like it went quite a ways down. I didn't really look too hard. Creatures I’ve never seen before were crawling out of it and they smelled completely of death. Fucking looked like it, too.”

Harry looks equal parts grumpy and like he doesn’t believe him at all, but the rest seem like he only confirmed their fears.

“Why were they summoned?” Louis asks after the long silence.

Niall surprises him by speaking up first. “I think someone wants to control them.”

“Are you serious?!” Louis squeaks out. “People think it’s a good idea to try to _control them_?”

“We were able to imprison them, weren’t we?” Niall challenges, though he doesn’t sound like he believes it himself, either.

“The stories say we could only capture them because other Gods helped us,” Harry cuts in.

Zayn shrugs. “The Court rediscovered some very powerful magic they think was used to bind them.”

“But can mages in our time use it? Is it even meant for commonfolk?” Harry asks skeptically and folds his arms. “How do we even know it can be used against them? Can any of us perform it?”

“Well,” Zayn responds patiently, “I read some of it, and I’m part fae, so I know my magic pretty well to begin with. It’s nothing I’ve ever felt before, but ultimately? We just don’t know. There was a lot of experimenting with the other mages and I to see how far we could get in the spell book.”

“How much of it did you learn?” Harry asks Zayn. “If we had that book, maybe we’d be a step ahead of the coven.”

“I have it,” Zayn replies nonchalantly.

Liam’s brow furrows. “What?”

“I brought it with me last night. The castle obviously wasn’t planning on putting it to use, so I figured I’d try to learn more while we train up and make a plan.”

It looks like Liam’s face is going to burst in enthusiasm. “Brilliant!” he exclaims delightedly. “Amazing!”

“Thank you, Sir Payne.” Louis rolls his eyes at Zayn’s use of the title.

“Don’t call me that. I lost that title, though I’m not so sure I care much about that anymore. I’m just Liam Payne.”

“Sure, Lee-yum,” Zayn teases lightly, receiving a blinding smile in return. Louis feels a shift in energy and concentrates just hard enough to see a soft, lavender hue emanating from Zayn's usual violet aura.

Louis interrupts. “Last night you said it should take a long time to free them completely. What exactly does that mean?”

“There’s many chains and spells in place to keep them from being released by just one person. It’s really difficult magic and while, in theory, it can be done by one person, the reality is that it takes many people,” Niall explains from his chair. 

Liam nods at that and continues the line of thought. “A lot of the spells we think were used in the original magic require specific moon phases to work and for ingredients to be picked on certain days of the year in special weather conditions. Then, some of the spells need time to charge before or while being cast. Letting The Old Ones out is only the first part of freeing them.”

Louis and Harry nod blankly, digesting the information. 

“But we don’t know anything for sure?” Harry asks.

“Not really,” Liam says plainly, “but this is information that our Court had and leaked, intentionally or not, so whatever this group knows came from what we had assumed. If they were able to summon The Old Ones from the process we thought would work, we might be right on the rest of it, too." He sighs and shakes his head. “That doesn’t mean the coven won’t learn more than we do, though. The Old Ones know the solutions to some of their binds and won’t hesitate to educate those mages to be freed from their debt quicker. I honestly doubt they’ll let themselves be controlled or bound by the coven once they reach their full power, either.”

Louis nods and looks over to Harry. He’s having trouble keeping his eyes open and has slid down in his seat since the start of the conversation. “So we have lots of time on our hands to get everything ready? We’re going to try to put them back while the coven is breaking their restraints and hope we’re quicker than them?”

Liam grimaces. “It’s the best we can hope for right now. Even as weak as they are, The Old Ones will tear us apart. We need to build defenses against them and learn how to exhaust them enough to put them back.”

With a frown, Louis nods and looks at Harry again, catching his gaze. “Alright?”

“Yeah,” he responds in a rough and not-at-all convincing voice.

“Why don’t you sleep for now?” Louis suggests softly. “We’ll wake you up if we’ve figured something out.”

“I want to help—” Harry begins, but Louis cuts him off.

“Mate, you’re no good to us if you’re bone-tired and can’t even stay awake. Nevermind that it’s got to be torture on you.” Harry still looks like he wants to protest, so Louis continues. “We won’t do anything important. Maybe figure out supplies.”

Harry bites his bottom lip, perfectly straight teeth poking out of his mouth. “Okay,” he agrees when he sweeps back his unruly curls.

While Harry climbs into the bed, the other four check out the garden and perimeter of the cabin. It’s spacious outside; there’s enough room to turn it into a training area, which is something sitting in the forefront of Louis’ mind. He’s going to have to learn how to properly fight— he can only assume that stopping the coven includes more than asking nicely. 

The place is surrounded by a small cluster of trees, enough to keep it mostly hidden from the road, but not enough to block it off completely. Louis finds a soft patch of grass just behind the house he thinks will be good to plant a small food garden on, since it sounds like it’ll be a while before they’re ready to leave this place. 

Zayn walks around the circle of trees, putting repellant and protection spells on every trunk. Louis knows the spells by heart and works opposite of him, eventually meeting in the middle.

“What are we doing about food?” Liam calls from near the cabin.

“Well,” Louis sighs as he gets closer, “It’s winter soon, so planting anything sustainable is out of the question unless we do it inside. For now, we can use some stuff I brought with me, maybe kill some game and either cure or freeze it.” He absently wipes some bark off his hands and looks at Liam and Niall. “Do either of you want to come hunting? There’s a wooded area next to the lake that’s probably got some animals scrambling around still.”

The three of them leave Zayn to watch the cabin while they go, grabbing gear and bags carefully so as to not wake Harry. Niall and Liam follow him dutifully with an air of practised seriousness that he assumes only comes from years and years of following orders.

Together, the two make the perfect hunter. 

Apart, not so much.

Niall is an excellent shot, hitting every mark Louis instructs him to, but too many times he fidgets or jumps the gun and scares away the animal. Liam, on the other hand, has the patience of an ox and likes to wait for the opportune moment. He can skin with the precision of a master, and Louis tells Liam exactly that, incredibly impressed with the both of them for doing so well for a first-time hunt. Liam, however, misses every shot he takes. Louis tells them they can practise.

They come back to the cabin with enough food for the five of them to last through the week and some other resources they can hopefully use down the line. Louis promises to take Niall and Liam out again the next day to gather fruit and berries to store away or replant. Zayn and Harry are talking and poring over an old spell book when they return.

“Hey,” Louis says in surprise when he sees Harry sitting awake at the table. They were only gone a few hours.

Harry flashes a grin in response. “Hey! Zayn was just showing me that old magic. It’s really interesting.”

“Yeah?” Louis murmurs as he unloads his bag from his shoulder. He walks towards the counter next to the stove, Niall and Liam following suit. “What’s the magic like?”

“It’s very intricate and intense. There really is a lot of waiting and hard concentration involved.” Louis can see the grin soften into something more awestruck and he notes that Harry is in a much better mood.

“You like magic?” Louis asks while they dump their haul out.

“I’ve never learned any, but I think I might like to once this is all over,” he replies and Louis can’t help but find it endearing.

“I can teach you how to do a freeze charm right now, if you want. I’m nowhere near as skilled as Zayn, I’m afraid, but I’m just as useful I’d like to think,” he returns with a wink.

It actually pulls a laugh from Harry, who gets up and joins the three of them at the counter. They sort out the meat from the rest of the animal and get to work on making a space for everything. Zayn comes over and takes all the remains to check their energies and starts to organize them, saving some for spells or potions and putting the rest aside to use as equipment.

When they’re all done curing and freezing their spoils, Niall announces, “I am fucking starving.”

“I can cook, but we’re running low on wood. We should last until tomorrow morning, I think. Someone might need to chop a tree down before it gets dark tonight,” Harry says as he fills one of the baskets.

“Maybe we should limit how much wood we’re using?” Louis suggests. “Zayn and I can make hearth stones if we find some dragon fruit. Better to save the wood for cooking.”

Liam rinses his hands off in a bucket with some of the lake water they’d collected earlier in the morning. “I can do the tree if someone comes with me. We should probably get more water on the way back and work on a well. Going to and from the lake every day isn’t productive. The snow should help, too, when it comes.”

Louis grins. “We’ll make a forest dweller out of you yet, Payno!”

In the end, Liam takes Zayn with him to get the wood, leaving Niall and Harry with Louis.

They chat animatedly with one another while they prepare a stew. Louis watches them carefully and picks out quirks he finds endearing, discovering how they respond to one another. He learns that Harry has a sharp, deadpan wit about him and that Niall is sort of silly. Harry likes to get words in and Niall listens well, though Harry’s posture is stiff with apprehension, and Louis figures he’s still hurt from being kept in the dark about Niall.

Louis still doesn’t even know the whole story. From what he could gather, Niall wasn’t Niall to Harry; he was Lain, a farm boy, and they were somewhat close. He wants to ask, but he knows that if he does, he’d be expected to share more about Zayn and himself. He doesn’t think he’s ready for that.

So, he just watches the two boys make supper and conversate and tries to tell himself he’s not drawn to the way Harry can’t seem to stop smiling when he talks.

  


* * *

  


With all their down time, they prepare.

They set up a training area, targets and posts acting as dummies for their arrows and magic and blades. Zayn learns what he can from reading the ancient book and tries to teach offensive spells to all of them. Niall even starts an indoor garden.

Unsurprisingly, because of his human heritage and not learning a lick of magic up until now, Liam struggles to pick it up, only weakly understanding basic magic like healing small wounds and starting fires. Louis would think the same reasons would apply to Niall, but he’s shocked at his affinity for positive and defensive spells. 

[Always - Panic! At The Disco](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GoFylcrxdM0)

Harry surprises him most. He stays on par with Louis, who had mastered beginning magic when he was a boy and has been using it regularly since. He tries his hardest to understand and respect magic the way Zayn does, a very difficult task given the easy nature of the mage’s use.

If they aren’t eating or sleeping, they’re learning to fight in different ways, even in the dark. The group absorb each other with ferocity and dedication, wanting to know one another. Their backgrounds are vastly different, but it can only help them in the end.

Louis’ body hurts, but he knows it’s nothing compared to the way Harry must be feeling after days with hardly any rest. It’s visibly taking its toll.

He’s falling asleep again at the table while Liam and Niall are outside training in the dark of the night, Zayn leaving the house to set up bottles of water in the dark to catch the crescent moon’s light. It’s Louis’ turn to sleep, but when he sees Harry nodding off at an uncomfortable angle at the table like he’s done every other night for the last five days, something inside him twists and finally breaks. 

He nudges at Harry’s foot with his own. Harry jolts awake and stares sleepily at Louis, wearily taking Louis’ offered hand and following him to the bed. When Louis gestures at the mattress, Harry crawls toward the side against the wall in defeated exhaustion, and Louis follows him without a word.

It’s not even awkward like he thought it’d be. Harry passes out almost instantly and Louis tries and fails not to stare at his sleeping form. There’s something peaceful in his face that the rogue isn’t sure he’s seen since he’s met him. Between the deep-seated betrayal and the stress of their situation, he doesn’t think Harry has had time to decompress. The added sleep deprivation can’t have helped.

People can say that Louis is a lot of things, but never cruel. To continue letting Harry sleep two hours a night would have been downright cold-blooded.

Louis drifts away with thoughts of wounded egos and a sleepy boy. There are dreams of his childhood dancing sweetly in his brain, although the lavender field he and Zayn sneak through to avoid Fizzy’s precocious eyes is completely foreign. He jolts awake from his deep rest when he’s prodded in the back by a sleep-irritable Niall and finds himself tangled in Harry’s grasp. It doesn’t take long for them to sort themselves out, but Louis still warms in embarrassment and feels a weird tug inside his stomach at the idea of being separated.

Harry smiles at him gratefully and goes to the stove to heat them up some water and a bit of last night's dinner, but he doesn’t utter a word about how they woke up.

Their routine changes a little bit with their bed sharing and everyone gets a little bit more sleep because of it. Liam and Niall can emerge at noon instead of early morning, and there’s more time the five of them can spend together all at once to prepare. It works and nobody says anything. Louis surely doesn’t mention that it’s the best he’s slept since he’s been home.

  


* * *

  


“Hey, Lou?” Harry asks one day while they’re training alone together, the nickname unfamiliar yet natural.

“Hmm?” he hums back from where he’s laying in the grass taking a break, comfortable breeze floating over his chest.

“What kind of magic can you do that’s not for fighting?”

Louis cracks one eye open to see Harry joining him and folding his legs. The sun is bright and he can feel his face scrunch with the effort of looking at the sky, so he sits up and mirrors Harry, arms resting on his knees. 

“All kinds,” he says back. “What do you want to see?”

Harry shrugs. “Whatever you can do.”

Louis thinks for a moment before holding his cupped palms skyward. A buzz tugs just behind his shoulder blades as bubbles sprout up from his hands and float away. Harry watches in awe as they rise higher in the sky and pop, a childlike grin taking over his features.

He looks back and pins Louis down with an attentive gaze, smile still on his mouth. “That’s conjuration, right? How does that work?”

“Well,” Louis hums quietly as he drops his hands. “There’s mana in everything around us. We all regenerate it by ourselves and everything makes it too, yeah? Bigger, more complex things require more mana, and it’s the same with aggressive and defensive spells. Bubbles are really easy because there’s not much mass to them and don’t generate that much energy as they exist, which is why they don’t need much energy to be conjured.”

“How do you get them to appear? Is it just the same as the fighting spells? Thinking about it until it happens?” Harry had grabbed Louis’ hands at some point and is now examining them closely, rubbing his thumbs over Louis’ palms.

“Yeah. Most practical magic you use is easily cast with enough concentration, but incantations make it smoother because words tend to have more intent behind them. Incantations are also applied in rituals alongside potions and charmed items, and rituals are typically done to alter many things at once or used if the thing you want is less corporeal. It allows for magic to be more complex.”

Harry lifts his head up and peers at Louis with his whole attention. “That’s really interesting.”

Louis’ chest and neck go warm with the way Harry is looking at him so intently. He’s not used to being watched this closely, especially not in his profession.

“Yeah,” Louis says back softly. His hands are still being cradled and he takes notice of the calluses and burn marks that cover Harry’s skin. It feels weird to have been so angry with each other only a few weeks ago because, right now, they’re practically holding hands and having a conversation that feels way more intimate than it has any right to be.

It’s too much and Louis mentally shakes himself out of it. He steadies his thought again to conjure something up with his hands, this time pooling black and twinkly glitter in his palms. Harry lets out a noise of delight and draws a finger down one of Louis’ fate lines playfully, dispelling a few sparkles and sending them tumbling through his fingers onto the still-green grass.

Louis smiles to himself at the innocence before dumping his hands over in a magical cloud and standing, pulling Harry to his feet. Louis cocks his head and gives him a soft smile. “How about we practise some more shields?”

  


* * *

  


Harry // [Raise Hell - Dorothy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zgT_mV1Pv5w&index=6&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&t=0s)

“Harder! You’re holding back, Louis! It won’t be me you fight out there, and it will throw you off,” Liam encourages from behind his shield.

“No,” Louis says, voice cross, “I’m not holding back. Believe me, I’d love to throttle you right now if I could.”

Zayn laughs from his seat on the ground, wards surrounding him as he easily sends a fireball at a steel target across the way. “He’s a stealthy one, Li. Give him a break. It doesn’t require much hand to hand strategy to slit a throat.”

“I can fight just fine when it’s not against a fucking knight!” Louis protests back as he lunges towards Liam again, punctuated with a frustrated huff.

Liam sighs heavily as he side steps Louis easily. “So I guess this means we should build your strength on top of training swordsmanship?”

Harry observes Louis as he lowers his knocked bow. He takes in the small yet muscular arms, thick thighs, slender frame, and he can immediately tell that Louis’ body is already built. If he could land a hit, it would be enough to challenge Liam’s balance and leave him open for a fatal attack.

He says as much and Liam grimaces, but before he can protest, Harry soothes, “Louis’ plenty strong enough— that’s not the problem. Not all of us are meant to be swordsmen. I do better with a sword and that’s likely how I’ll be fighting. Niall is better with a bow and Zayn is better with magic. Louis is better at magic, too, and faking out his opponent. We should learn other things in case we need to use them, but we should really rely on what we’re best at for our main focus.”

Liam considers this and nods. “Okay, Louis. I want to see how well you deflect.”

Louis drops his sword and shield with a grateful sigh, earning a raised eyebrow from Niall. Liam swings his pole and Louis ducks deftly, scrambling to get under it, smoothly yanking out Liam’s knees as he makes a turn and runs behind him. Liam falls flat on his back and Louis is already invisible where he’s torn through the trees.

An almost-silent gust of wind whips at Liam at where he’s laying in the grass, startling him into laughing. “Alright, yeah. That worked.”

The response comes in the form of a similar wind from Zayn, a yelp, and a figure falling partially out of a tree.

“Not nice,” Louis complains loudly from where he’s caught a branch on his way down.

“We’re going up against people who regularly use magic. Make sure you ward yourself,” Zayn says, whirling a purple orb in his hand. “They won’t be as forgiving as us.”

Louis drops down, landing deftly. He sends a glare straight through Zayn, who stiffens. The ground rumbles slightly before crumbling into soft dirt just beneath him.

“Cover your ass next time.”

Niall breaks into a fit of laughter, doubling over next to Harry.

Zayn struggles to get out of the powdery earth, sinking with every movement. The wards have fallen away and the violet orb he was spinning between spells is now hanging in the air, sending angry magenta sparks flying off its curves.

Liam stands and strides to the struggling mage. He is about to offer his hand when Zayn shimmers pink and completely disappears. Immediately, Louis’ face drops and he frantically scrambles back up his tree, tiptoeing across a low limb and jumping off near Niall and Harry. He quickly attaches himself to the blacksmith’s back, body rubbing against his as they both laugh.

“You love Harry,” Louis squeals out. “You can’t touch me!”

Zayn shimmers back onto their plane and scowls deeply at Louis, who is turning Harry between them. Zayn tries to reach around Harry, but Louis moves lower, face shoved into Harry’s back.

“ _Louis_ ,” Zayn snaps irritably.

Louis giggles and stands fully, smile bright, and Harry thinks it could light up the world. He comes around his side, arm still slung around his waist. “What’s the matter, Zaynie?”

“Play fair!” Zayn demands petulantly.

“They won’t be as forgiving as us,” Louis mocks back. Harry grins so hard he’s sure his face will split.

“You’re such a pain,” Zayn says, turning around. “Seriously!” He laughs as he flicks his wrist towards the space of ground he was previously sat on. The earth flattens out and firms up, grass growing quickly on top.

A thought comes to Harry’s mind and he’s immediately curious. “I’m sure there’s a reason, but why don’t we grow food with magic?”

Louis answers from where he’s still tucked into Harry’s side. “Magic food isn’t safe to eat sometimes. It can carry diseases we aren’t ready for yet because it’s just speeding up the natural process. Magic can make us healthier, but we still don’t know what to expect, so we can’t prepare for whatever it brings. It’s best to let it grow normally.”

“That makes sense,” Harry assents gently with a smile. He hates that their Kingdom is so averse to magic when they could use it to their advantage and help people. It’s got so much to offer and there are so many mysteries behind it that commonfolk outside of humans understand so thoroughly.

Louis smiles back softly, but they’re interrupted by an arrow tossed at them from Niall. They both glare at him while he laughs heartily at their affronted faces. Louis finally lets go of Harry to make fists at him. “Do you want to be next?”

Niall’s eyes go comically large. “No, no! Please, no!” he jokes and sprints back into the cabin, Liam grabbing him by the waist.

“No! Come here,” he laughs. “We need to keep training!” Niall relents and lets himself be dragged back into the secluded yard. “Let’s trade, though. I want to see what Harry’s got.”

Louis snorts as he takes a seat next to Zayn, picking up the old spell book and flipping to a random page. “If you wanted a challenge, you could’ve just said.”

Niall sits easily next to Louis and leans in to read the book over his shoulder. He mutters something from the page under his breath and the air warms subtly. Pale yellow spheres materialize with matching glows, floating delicately around the grounds before gathering around Niall, sliding across his skin. They travel down the length of his body until they reach his left leg. Louis shifts the book away to hover uselessly around Niall, who immediately tenses up.

“Niall?” Zayn asks quietly, holding as equally as still.

“They’re fixing me knee,” he whispers as the colour drains from his face.

“You have to relax. They’re responding to your command and if they think you’re nervous, they might get nervous too and make it worse,” The mage instructs back in a murmur.

The orbs start darkening in shade, some disappearing right into Niall’s clothes. The darker ones dissipate, leaving a cloud in their wake. The five of them sit in silence, staring expectantly at Niall’s knee.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” he marvels softly.

“When’s the last time it didn’t bother you?” Liam wonders like he can’t quite believe it. “We were like thirteen!” He’s seemingly terrified and carefully walks closer, directing his attention to Zayn. “No one else has been able to heal it.”

“I didn’t even realize it was wounded, if I’m honest. Usually, I can sense that sort of thing, especially since we’ve been in such close quarters for this long,” Zayn admits as he crawls over and pokes at Niall’s knee gently. “Was it magic?” he inquires with a tilt of his head at Liam.

“Yeah,” Niall answers. “We used to have a whole battalion of mages at the castle. I was very young and curious, so I was often in places I wasn’t meant to be.” He stands up to test the newness of his balance. “I got too close to a target while sneaking around and ended up with a hex in my knee. They were able to mostly clean me up while they fetched my father. It still hurt pretty bad after and they predicted it would never stop hurting.” He shakes his head and bites his lip. “My father refused to have mages in our army after that.”

Zayn considers this. “Magic is hard to heal.”

“I knew the magic in the book was powerful, but…” Liam trails off, sitting down just behind Niall and Zayn. “We had many people come in to look at him. No one could fix it.”

The fae shrugs, “I’m positive Niall has an affinity, too. He only just recited the spell, not even using any intent to casting it.”

Harry feels a pang of jealousy run through his veins insidiously. He longs for that quick ability as he wanders mindlessly over to Louis, perching in the space the spell book previously vacated. He peers into the tome where it lays in front of them and reads some of the text. Small hands rest lightly on his hips.

“Are these healing spells on this page?” he asks Zayn.

“Yes. A couple pages later is the offensive magic and the pages before are defensive. Looks like rituals are in the back.”

Grabbing the book, Harry leans back into Louis and reads more in depth, investing himself thoroughly, fingers trailing gently over the weathered ink. Louis hooks his sharp chin over Harry’s shoulder. He reads quietly, listening to Zayn and Liam chatter over Niall’s knee and discuss possibilities of Niall being their healer. Harry turns the brittle page and is faced with a faded diagram. The spine creaks open flatly, having been used to being forced open to this exact spot.

The picture shows a plethora of spells with what appear to be page numbers next to them. There is a drawing of two humanoids in the center with red and blue lights mingling in the middle to make a rich purple. The figures are colour-coded, either page containing different spells and showing both sides of the master spell labeled ‘Chantella’. 

"I remember this one," Harry murmurs as he points a finger at a random script on the navy side. "It was hard to read. I'm sure the rest are no different." 

"I didn't realize until now just how high-stakes this will be. One spell or ingredient out of place and we risk the whole thing," Louis ponders quietly. "I mean...I knew, you know? But looking at this... it's mad." 

Harry nods in agreement, sending a curl bouncing into Louis' mouth, who softly blows it away. It tickles his neck. 

"Did you guys see this?" Harry says to the group, holding out the book. "It looks like the master spell. Chantella.”

"All that?" Niall asks. Zayn nods solemnly and grabs the tome carefully. 

"Two people have to do it, probably to accommodate commonfolk performing it.”

"It'll be you and Louis, right?" Liam asks.

"That's a lot of pressure," Niall says while picking at the dead grass around him. 

"It is," Zayn says, looking at Louis "but we're the best fit for now. There's not really much choice." Louis seems like he might be sick, but nods at Zayn anyway. A tense silence passes over the group and Liam lays back on the chilly ground. The heavy tension weighs on all of them harshly, piercing the calm with something malicious and severe. It sinks deep into their bones and sticks to their skin uncomfortably, too real and much too fast. 

In the end, it's Liam that takes pity on them all and stands, murmuring that they should get back to training.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a [visual gallery](https://andersconesgallery.tumblr.com/x) and it's best viewed on browser. the boy's photos are in chronological order and are parallel to the progress in the fic, top to bottom.
> 
> [celia's playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1h0AxitSUh67QgkTIxhOhp)  
> [my spotify ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0Pd4o93KLkbJXMTiJxNsMq) // [ youtube playlist ](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A) (songs linked in fic) 
> 
> shout out to my beta https://userkant.tumblr.com/ and artist celia https://louisprideflag.tumblr.com/
> 
> my tumblr: anderscones.co.vu


	4. Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6.4k
> 
> just a drop of water in the sea of you.

Louis // [Send Me The Moon - Sara Bareilles](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RyV6653EUIc&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=11&t=0s)

Louis plops down sideways in Harry's lap without a care, deft hands working on a stitch in the navy fabric he's holding. Harry grabs him around his waist and thighs so that he doesn't fall and continues talking with Liam about keeping a blade tempered properly. 

Louis brought up that winter is well on its way and that it's getting colder day by day, sheepishly pulling out the cloaks he'd hung onto from the treasure room saying they didn't need to buy extra fabric they'd already had. He suggested ripping out the insignia and hems and buying the insulating fabric to sew into the navy and burgundy cloaks as an extra layer of protection so they didn't have to use their magic as much to keep warm. 

Niall had raised an impressed eyebrow and Liam went a little quiet, admitting that the reason he and Niall were caught was because of security tightening after the heist. Louis tried to apologize and the archer stopped him, saying that they should have been more careful to not get caught and that the castle had it coming, anyway. 

Louis is currently working on Harry's outercoat, sewing the deep blue to the earth-coloured insulation with careful movements. He'd insisted, since it reminded him of being with his mum and sisters. That's what he said when Niall asked, anyway. 

He lays his head on Harry's shoulder as he works, absently humming a song under his breath that subsequently slows Zayn and Niall where they work on building hearth stones to charge. Liam listens to whatever it is Harry is saying but Louis can tell he's not really paying attention, instead focusing on the sweet tones coming from the elf's throat. 

The only one who doesn't seem to notice is Harry, who keeps talking about how this is probably the first time the kiln in his shop has been shut off since it was lit. 

Louis keeps at it. Liam eventually focuses on pulling food out of their stores to start lunch for them while Harry finally starts to listen to the boy in his arms sing and watch him work diligently on the tight stitches in the cloak. The blacksmith sighs contentedly into Louis' hair and tightens his grip firmly. 

"Is that difficult?" Harry asks quietly. 

Louis stops his slow humming long enough to answer. "Nah," He whispers back as he expertly ends a loop and starts a new one. "Just takes forever." 

"I was never taught how to sew. My parents were too busy solidifying my apprenticeship to teach me a lot of things I'd liked to have learned," He admits casually, laying his cheek on the crown of Louis’ head. "I love my work but I want domesticity and to be able to run around my home doing things that need to be done and enjoying time with family." 

Louis lifts his head, jostling Harry in the process. He feels a blinding smile plaster itself to his face, "Really?" The blacksmith nods with a shy grin. "That's lovely. Have you settled down, then?" He feels weird asking and he's almost positive that he'd know by now, but the need to have it explicitly stated overshadows everything else. 

"My parents have both passed and I've been too busy with work to really find someone to marry, but I do have an older sister called Gemma. She's in Taro at the moment and I'm sure she's been sending for me. We've had almost constant communication since she moved and I've not been writing," He thinks on this for a moment with a slight frown. "Hopefully they haven't been interrogating about where I am or told her I'm wanted." 

Louis frowns too. "Would she think of you differently?" Because it's not like their situation should be regarded as a real crime. Louis has held people up, he’s stabbed them for looking too tough, he’s set people on fire for threatening to turn him and Zayn into the guard- he's stolen straight from the fucking King, for Gods' sake! That's the sort of shit people should be wanted for, not running away with a prince to stop beings older than the planet itself from destroying everything they see. 

"She'd probably help me get away with murder and still think I'm the most harmless thing on this earth, so I doubt it, but it's still embarrassing and it might worry her because it means no one knows where I am," He admits back with a wistful look on his face. 

"Well, maybe you can send her something so that she knows you're fine but not so conspicuous that they know it was you," Louis says lightly and pokes a gentle finger into the smudge of facial hair the blacksmith has been able to grow above his lip. "Besides, it's not totally true that no one knows where you are." 

Harry sends a contained smile at him. "No, I guess not," He plays absently with the cloak covering most of their laps. "You know where I am." 

  


* * *

  


Zayn

He sits outside quietly and wishes they had tobacco. The breeze is nice and it’s a cool day. Liam had gone out to gather some brush to start fires and had taken a second bag with him that Zayn could sense parchment and a stick of charcoal in. That was about an hour ago and he should be arriving back just about now, so he stands from his little perch on the back step and wanders into the treeline just outside their yard.

Most of the leaves have fallen off and the sun shines warmly. It feels cozy as the forest floor crunches wetly beneath him, having rained early in the morning. He ambles slowly, not really in a hurry to go anywhere. There’s a small rustle of paper about ten meters away to his right and he follows the noise curiously, knowing it’s likely not an animal. He comes up quietly in the small clearing and sees Liam sitting on a damp log, hunched over something in his lap.

Intentionally, Zayn makes the leaves rustle under his feet louder so that Liam isn’t startled by his sudden presence. The knight looks up over his shoulder and spots him, sending a warm smile before returning to what Zayn can now make out as a paper in his hands. He comes even closer and steps over the dead trunk before plopping down gracefully to Liam’s left. He stares out into the mostly-dead meadow that Liam looks up to every now and then, canvas bag full of kindling to their right.

It’s peaceful, listening to the subtle scratches of charcoal on the paper. He misses sketching like he did all the time at the castle. Since they’ve been out here, he hasn’t found time or inspiration to draw. It used to release his stress nicely, but he’s been so exhausted lately.

Maybe it’s rude, but he peers over the knights shoulder and looks at the careful lines in admiration. He’s drawn a handsome replication of the dying earth in front of them that romanticizes the way nature kills things in preparation for winter. The decay of the forest floor is ugly at first glance, but Liam has somehow captured the elegance of melancholy and, for a second, Zayn’s favourite season is autumn.

He carefully leans his cheek into Liam’s warm bicep, feeling the soft cotton on his skin. “That’s beautiful, Liam,” He says softly.

Liam turns to him and beams gently. “Thanks,” Zayn’s heart skips a beat at how genuine it sounds and melts just a little bit.

They sit like that for a few minutes before returning to the cabin, gathering a few more bits of kindling on their way back.

  


* * *

  


Niall

Niall has never spent much time outside of a castle. Even when he was visiting other kingdoms, he usually rode in a carriage pulled by griffins straight from his castle to another. The most he’d ever done was stumble around Tredity forest that separated his home from Bressie’s farm, so he’s not really prepared for how often they roam the wooded area around their cabin.

[Kaleidoscope Heart - Sara Bareilles](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C0tttF1pKIU&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=12&t=0s)

There’s lots of things he’d heard of but never seen with his own eyes, like wisps and nymphs. The first encounter he had with a nymph wasn’t very pleasant, as he’d walked right into a strange structure that, upon looking back, resembled a home. Needless to say, he put his newly-learned wards to use.

He’ll never understand his father’s hatred, he’s sure. Maybe he could have died when the nymph tried to sic a tree ent on him, but they were beautiful. Covered in moss and vines with glowing skin that crackled with embers underneath, shrieking something fierce. They were just scared and he was an intruder. It wasn’t their fault.

The will-o-the-wisp took him to an empty field full of dying flowers. There wasn’t much to remark there until she plunged herself into the ground. The grass had begun to glow around her in a ripple, sending luminescent dust motes into the night sky in an aquamarine haze that matched her formless body. It was one of the most beautiful things he’s ever witnessed and he never would have seen it if it were up to his father.

Once while picking berries, he tripped and his bucket had gone flying, dumping out everything from inside and even lost his quiver. He’d griped before leaving his arrows to collect the scattered food, slowly making headway as he dropped them all back in the bucket. When he turned around, he caught sight of a faun running through the trees, brush kicking up behind them. His quiver was assembled neatly on a rock, every arrow he’d been carrying tucked inside.

Magic with the other boys has done nothing but widened his eyes. Some of it can be destructive, sure, but most of it is useful or just outright stunning. Zayn and Louis work easily with strands of magic and can do things with it that he’d never gotten used to in Cercesia. It’s beautiful and pure, even if it’s unfamiliar to him, which is where he thinks his father went wrong. Embracing the differences and learning the things that come as easy as breathing to his friends is what the Kingdom should be working towards, not rejecting it.

Niall has to settle for being distantly bitter about it, because these thoughts just become a distraction to him while he’s supposed to be working.

He, Louis, and Zayn are on a hunt this morning in the small forest on the other side of the lake, little puddles of water covering the brush every so often. The elves are up ahead of him, whispering to one another quietly while they look for any large game that would suffice better than the rabbits and squirrel they’ve been finding.

Niall is watching his feet intently, carefully avoiding any rodent holes and fallen branches, not really hearing their soft tread hit the ground. It’s a mistake, as it turns out, because when he looks back up, they’re both gone. He stops dead in his tracks and lets out a groan before moodily grabbing his longbow from where it sits on his back, the cedar smooth and familiar in his hands. 

His father would have rather he carried a heavier bow, but the light wood is a much smarter choice for his slighter frame. They’d argued for hours about how he should be able to wield something heavier and how he’d be better suited for the denser bows, but he in no way was going to let his father sway him on the decision. He’s always known what's good for him and he made damn sure he won that fight.

Soft pitter pattering of rain begins falling again and Niall can do nothing but grumble further and start jogging in a random direction. He runs his fingers through his thick locks and feels the corners of his bow brush against his shoulder and ankle with every stride, sprinting towards a slope of grass that harbours the mouth of a cave. 

He barely makes it to cover before being hit with a wave of heat to his front. He spares half a glance around the hollowed out dirt and immediately regrets his decision. It’s dark but he can make out, if just barely, a great heaving figure curled into a ball lying on the ground in front of him.

Niall’s breath catches in his chest at the sight and it sticks uncomfortably to his throat. He can’t take in anything else as his gaze is frozen on the creature in panic. The dirt floor is littered with chips of large, metallic scales that shine weirdly in the low light, simultaneously black and rainbow coloured.

It’s really reckless and kind of nonsensical the way his brain tells him to drop his bow with a thick clang in favour of calmly picking up the scales before exiting the cave, almost as if he’s on auto pilot or in someone else’s body. His feet shuffle over the ground noiselessly and he bends over, fingers grazing the loose plates. A jolt of energy sizzles through his fingers and travels up his arm at the sheer amount of magic inside the metal bits, so fierce it almost elicits a scream from him. Carefully, he settles it into his palm and reaches for another, eventually gathering a whole armful of metal.

When he straightens out, he’s met with a gigantic face, golden eyes glaring right through his soul. He doesn’t let out a yelp, doesn’t move a damn muscle, just stands there stupefied at the enormity of the creature in his sight. Heat wraps around him as the animal breathes out predatorily, steam coming from its nostrils angrily. Niall swallows and they stare at each other blankly.

His fight or flight should be kicking in right now, but nothing runs through his veins. The scales are heavy in his arms, almost like they’re rooting him to the cave floor. The creature stares more intensely before opening it’s jaws wide and inhaling deeply, the pink of its mouth too soft and inviting to belong to such a terrifying thing, especially when the many rows of jagged teeth all come to dangerous points.

Niall knows distantly, somewhere through the fog that covers his mind, that he’s dead even if he could somehow get his legs to break the weird spell gluing him down, so he just shuts his eyes and waits. It isn’t very long before he hears a bang not too far from behind him that rattles the walls of the cave, nearly shaking him from his reverie. The creature moves it’s head in eerie time with Niall’s, which he’s sure he’s not in control of. It's mouth closes in irritation as it spots Zayn standing at the opening of the cave.

The mage stands with one arm out and wields a glittery elvish knife in the opposite hand. Without a single word, he glides the blade smoothly up the middle of his forearm and ruins a good portion of his tattoos there.

The blood that spills out is mostly red, but in a similar way to the scales in his arms, it’s tinted with a glossy rainbow appearance. Niall is just as captivated by it as he is by the creature’s plates and begins to walk forward at the same time as the grand animal, but something yanks him back by the shoulders, jostling the metal he holds.

“Put them down,” Louis whispers in his ear. When he doesn’t budge in his hypnotic state, the elf dislodges his elbows and causes all of the scales to tumble gracelessly to the ground. They clatter unnaturally quiet in a pile.

Niall scrambles down to pick them up, but Louis yanks on him again to pull him up straight as he hisses out, “ _No_.”

He’s being dragged out of the cave by his biceps and watches Zayn shimmer into nothingness, just a faint cloud of fuschia where he used to stand. The creature snarls nastily at that and takes off running when the mage reappears again about five meters away, just enough in it’s line of sight to give chase. Its sleek wings barely spread as it jumps into a lunge with it’s charcoal claws digging in the dirt, dark scales shining holographically. It grazes a sapling and sends it splintering wildly into other trees dangerously as Zayn dips in and out of view through the raindrops.

Louis pulls him further and further away until the animal is out of sight and the intense feeling of needing to have the metal plates in his possession ebbs away. He’s soaked to the core with the rain but is so very thankful to not be in danger anymore that he doesn’t even care.

He’s forced into plopping down on the wet earth, Louis peering down into his face suspiciously with a cedar bow tight in his grasp.

“What happened?” He asks, still not understanding the situation he found himself in.

“You wandered into a dragon’s den.”

“A _dragon_?” He asks dazedly.

“Yes,” Louis replies calmly as he places a cautious hand on the side of Niall’s face. He can feel a bubbly tingle run through his chest and neck into the back of his head. A light blue glow softly enters his vision and he can feel a stinging sensation slide up his throat violently. It forces his mouth open and releases a mist of darkness from between his lips that dissipates pitifully. “Dragon scales tend to be cursed. That’s why the ones we can handle are usually so valuable- it’s hard to come by ones that don’t get you killed.”

Just then, Zayn pops into existence right next to them. He nonchalantly runs a hand across his cut and lets clean water pour from his palms over the strange blood to wash it away. The clear liquid is slowly replaced by a baby pink draught that filters the wound away and leaves nothing in its wake, not even a scar disrupting the ink there.

“Why did it chase you?” Niall questions with furrowed brows.

“Dragons love fae blood, especially because it doesn’t clot and stays infused with magic. It’s something they’d hoard if they could find it easier, so they take every chance they get to collect it,” Zayn replies neatly as he wrings out his robes with another spell. “We should get out of here for now. It’ll be looking for me for a while and will scare away any game we can manage to corner.”

Even with his latest misstep, Niall is so incredibly furious with his father’s ignorance.

  


* * *

  


Harry

They survive pretty well. It surprises Harry a little bit. They all bicker sometimes but otherwise get along spectacularly and with all their knowledge piled together, they’re diverse and crafty. There’s a routine and a system to how they survive, plus they’ve all made significant progress in learning different ways to protect themselves. Any time they get the chance, they go over the spells in the book. Harry, Zayn, and Louis are the only ones who can perform anything pertinent from it, but Liam can make potions decently and Niall likes the healing magic, so it’s fine.

Harry knows magic and he’s pretty good at it. He’s not sure if he prefers the blade, which he’s studied his whole life, or magic, which feels as easy as breathing.

Louis tells him he doesn’t have to like one better than the other.

And that’s another, funny thing, too. Louis warmed up to them all pretty quickly and it’s a lot less stressful knowing that the most cautious one of them all doesn’t feel like he has to be ready to snap at everything they say. Of course, he still has some reservations but overall, it feels like they’re all trying to win his praise and make him smile.

At least, Harry knows that’s what _he’s_ doing.

[Warriors - Imagine Dragons](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o3W5ngVTtRE&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=13&t=0s)

So when Louis goes on a supply run to the nearby outpost one morning and isn’t back by afternoon, they’re all naturally very, very nervous.

“What should we do?” Harry asks feverently. “We can’t just look for him or ask around. If he’s been caught, they’re going to expect us.”

“We’re going to have to if we want to know what happened,” Niall grimaces, words full of anxiety and reluctance.

Harry bites at his lip as they sit in silence, soaking up the situation.

“I’ll go for now,” Harry offers but, really, he says it in a way that suggests it’s not up for debate. “I’m the least likely to be recognized, and if I can’t find him by nightfall, I’ll come back and we should all go.”

“If you get caught?” Zayn asks with raised eyebrows, sharing a look with Liam.

“I’ll figure it out. If I’m not back by sundown, don’t try to find me,” He replies curtly.

They all stare at him as he packs himself up and heads for the door. They ask him to be careful and he promises to try his best.

He walks to the supermarket square located near where they bought the cabin and starts looking. He doesn’t ask around because it’d only be counterproductive- there are posters and descriptions of the other three all around the square. If anyone had seen Louis, they likely would have turned him into the guard. Harry settles for strolling around and pretending to be interested in the goods perched upon the rickety tables, all different products. He looks for signs of struggle in the fresh, barely-there snow, just anything that would indicate that Louis had been around and dragged off.

After a while, he begins to desperately walk in circles and finds nothing promising. Panic manifests heavier in his ribcage. He’s seen everything and combed over it all several times by now. He dodges the guards and hides his face the best he can as he goes around for the tenth time helplessly. A sweet little lady comes up to him from her small snow-dusted stand, which has a surprisingly large mix of different merchandise. Harry wonders if maybe this is where Louis gets their things.

“Are you okay, dear?” She asks comfortingly. “You look like you’re in pieces. Have you lost something?”

He hesitates, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth when his eyes water. Stupid.

Realization and something like relief washes over her dark face. “Are you maybe Zayn?” He’s about to answer no when she tries once more. “Harry?”

He pauses again. How much should he reveal? What is safe to say to who? Sure, this elderly woman looks harmless, but so does Niall, who can swiftly and accurately hit a target from over two hundred meters. This woman could have killed Louis, could kill Harry right now, or even turn to nearby security and have him hauled away. Maybe she’s part of the coven and somehow found out the boys are trying to reverse their mistake. It’d make sense if there was a mole in the castle who’d once had access to the now-missing book. She-

“The elf- he’s been asking for you two in his sleep. Fever might be a better word,” She grimaces. “I’m trying my best, but there’s only so much I’m capable of and the guard is still looking for him,” She explains carefully. “If he doesn’t get better help, I think he’s going to die.”

And that’s precarious. For all the danger it might put him in, the woman could have really found Louis and tried to help him. That thought alone is more than enough to get Harry to nod stiffly.

“Come with me, then,” She nods her coarse, curly head in the direction of her shop. “He’s sleeping right now and is mostly fine, but whatever it is is getting worse and it’s only been a few hours since he ran by me.” With practiced, weathered hands, she unlocks the door, revealing a cluttered and warm interior smelling strongly of sweet spices and feeling much like he’s walked right into the sun, if it were safe to touch.

He slowly follows her into a room at the back of the space, painfully aware of how much this could be a trap.

But there in that back room lies Louis on a bed of straw and blankets piled together on the floor.

Harry picked up playfully teasing the elf. Since they all started getting on, he’s even taken to openly admiring him. With a sweet smile and awed eyes, he’d tell Louis that his soul is on fire, so alive and wild and full of life that he could burn, burn, burn everything and everyone to the ground if he wanted. His aura says so, glowing with licking flames right behind his bright blue eyes. Louis is scarlet, much like Niall is forest green and Liam is navy and Zayn is deep violet. The mage tells Harry he’s seashell pink and he thinks that sounds right.

Louis’ energy is supposed to be red. Instead, it is white. It feels like someone took the fire inside him and dialed it up as far as it would go, letting the flames turn hot enough to melt steel. It’s all wrong. Louis isn’t supposed to melt. He’s supposed to _burn_.

Well, maybe he is burning. Louis’ skin is on fire where Harry touches it, not even realizing he’d knelt down. It’s unnaturally hot, actually singeing his fingers where they slide over the skin and the air encompassing them is almost freezing.

Harry knows what Louis’ energy feels like, knows that the aura that surrounds the boy physically sucks with warmth out of his skin, leaving him cold and relentlessly shoving his freezing feet under anyone who sits still long enough. Louis’ energy is never overpowering, never burns out of control like it does now. For all the wild and all-consuming nature of fire, it never consumes Louis.

“He’s a regular you know,” The woman murmurs from behind him. “He comes by a lot, has a specific order, but always buys one or two odd items.

Harry pushes back Louis’ sweaty fringe with a gentle hand and wishes everything wasn’t so oppressive.

The elf beneath his touch stirs a little and mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like his name.

It’s weird. Because Zayn? He can understand that. From what he’s been able to gather, they were very close at one point and it seems that they’re well on their way back to that. But Harry? They barely know each other, certainly not any better than Liam or Niall.

It feels important, but also incredibly terrifying.

“Do you know what’s wrong with him?”

“Not quite. It’s like someone tampered with his energy- sort of rearranged it and put it back reversed.” He answers solemnly. Focusing, he looks at the too-bright energy and frowns.

The thing is, whatever happened, it was magic. Harry knows he can dismantle energy if he wanted, but he’s never done it before. The fact that he’s practically forced to do it makes it even more dangerous than the original hex. It’s essentially Louis’ soul but he has to do something because if he doesn’t, Louis will die.

He just has to take his time.

The air has enough character that he can pull his strength right out of it. Steeling himself, he settles deeper into the mess of blankets with great care and anxiety.

Harry can do this, right? Yeah! Zayn might be a better choice but is there time to find him? No, probably not.

Letting out a nervous breath, he turns Louis so that he’s lying on his back and slides a hand down his burning face. He places his other palm right over Louis’ diaphragm and closes his eyes.

[I Will Follow You Into The Dark - Death Cab For Cutie](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NDHY1D0tKRA&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=14&t=0s)

Harry knows that his energy is inside-out and amplified right now, and thinking about it in an analytical context soothes him a little. It’s easier to understand. He just needs to dial it down and put the white back on the outside and the red on the inside.

So he does just that; he siphons the extra energy away and, from memory, rearranges what remains into the correct composition. It takes some time with his careful hands and it definitely leaves him drained to the point that he can’t even keep his eyes open. He’s even sweat through his clothes. All Harry can do in the end is lay beside Louis and hope it worked.

  


* * *

  


When Harry wakes, it’s that peaceful sort of way where his eyes just open and his body is completely relaxed. It’s not until he notices that the window above the two of them isn’t filtering in sunlight anymore that he starts to panic.

He sits up frantically and notes that Louis is unmoving where he lays and a lump rises in his throat. He quickly grabs the elf’s still hand and feels his wrist for a pulse. Louis’ temperature feels normal. There’s a quick staccato in his blood that Harry has come to learn as familiar. 

Okay. Louis survived. Some of the anxiety in his chests calms down, but there is the matter of it being _dark_ because _dark_ is when Harry specifically told the other boys he’d be back by.

“Shh...” Louis mumbles as he wraps his slender hand around the one still holding onto his wrist. “Your heart is pounding. We’re fine.”

Harry tries to explain but as soon as he opens his mouth, Louis peeks up at him sleepily and wraps an arm around the blacksmith’s neck to pull him back down into the makeshift bed. “Listen,” Louis orders.

Harry hears voices but they don’t mean anything to him because he can’t concentrate past his urge to run. As Louis curls into him more, face plopping gently on Harry’s chest, he speaks again more intently this time. “ _Listen._ ”

So Harry sifts through his panic and breathes deeply. Their room is quiet, the kind of quiet that hurts your ears if you listen too hard, but beyond their door are clangs of dishes and silverware. The voices laugh at an inaudible joke. Harry almost cries in relief because the laugh that rings out amongst all of them unmistakably belongs to Niall.

Harry sighs out and forces himself to breathe slower as he sinks back into their little bed and lets his arm relax around Louis where he’s cuddled up, warmth pooling beneath his hand. They stay like that for a minute, the only sounds present coming from the outside.

“Your energy’s different,” Louis’ comment comes out muffled against Harry’s chest. “It’s darker. A truer pink, almost like a rose.”

“Is it?” Harry asks around a swallow. He knows that sometimes when one messes around with someone else’s soul it can end up affecting the tamperer’s, too. Louis’ aura looks and feels just the same. He can only hope that nothing went wrong.

“Definitely,” Louis murmurs. He sounds halfway to sleep.

“Lou,” Harry mumbles as he tries to rouse him. “We should get up. It’ll be easier to stay hidden if we go home at night.”

“But I’m tired,” comes the whingey response.

Harry can’t help but laugh. “Then I’ll carry you.”

With a grin into the blacksmith’s chest, Louis grumbles, “No thank you, Harold. I may be an elf, but I’m not here to fulfil any of your size fantasies.”

“No?” Harry asks with a giggle. “Then what use are you?”

Louis smacks him playfully on the sternum and reluctantly sits up into a large stretch. He watches on fondly as the rogue pops his joints and pulls at his probably-aching muscles. Louis catches him staring and sends a quirked eyebrow in his direction.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” He finds himself admitting softly. 

There’s a small upturn of Louis’ lips. “I don’t know exactly what happened, but from what I could hear the boys saying, I should thank you.”

Harry feels his face flush, a small smile making its way onto his lips as well. He’s not sure how to respond to that. He’s just grateful it worked.

Liam saves Harry from answering by knocking softly and opening the door. “I heard you guys talking and figured you were awake,” He explains sheepishly. “Chia has some stew done if you two want to have dinner and tell us what happened.”

They both inhale their meals at lightning speed, having been exhausted by the day’s antics even after their little nap. After a content sigh and curling up his legs, Louis recalls his memory.

“The guard was roughing up this kid who couldn’t have been more than seventeen. They were shaking him down for gold. He didn’t even steal anything! They just wanted his sterling and whatever else,” He heaves a frustrated sound out. “Didn't help that he was an animal hybrid, either. He pulled out what he had and I was just planning on replacing it, trying to keep a low profile and that, but then they started shaking him down for more,” Louis trails off and stares into the grain of the table.

“You were hit with something that reversed your energy and expanded it, it looked like,” Harry supplies.

Louis nods thoughtfully. “Sounds right. I got the one guard to drop the money by throwing a knife at him and ran when they saw me. I felt a spell hit my back while I was running, though I’m pretty sure they didn’t see where I went. I don’t remember how I ended up here, though.”

“You were pretty delirious when you stumbled by me,” The old woman, Chia, explains from her spot against the counter. “Had to shove you under the front of my stall because the guards came around the corner obviously looking for someone. I assumed it was you. I’m glad I did it.”

Louis tuts fondly and leans back in his chair to cup her elbow. “Thank you.”

“I don’t trust the guard at all,” She says so darkly it almost makes Harry flinch. “And you’re always so lovely when you stop by. How could I turn you in?”

Louis’ smile becomes even more blinding.

“And Harry undid the spell, then?” Zayn asks curiously, a hint of edge in it.

Chia nods with a sweet look at Harry. “Watched him do it with my own eyes. It took a while, so I left him to it after about twenty minutes. When I came back, they were both sleeping and Louis’ temperature had nearly gone.”

“They must be training guards with some magic to try to catch us since we have magic users. Well, done mate,” Niall says solidly. “I couldn’t even imagine doing magic that advanced.”

Harry just grins in response as Chia and Louis talk about something quietly.

They stay for a little while longer and Zayn takes it as an opportunity to trap Harry in muted conversation.

“You’re sure your parents were both human?” It catches him completely off guard and it’s strange to have his heritage questioned.

“Yes,” He answers dumbly. “Why?”

“Because humans aren’t meant to absorb energy like that, especially not from another person,” Zayn explains with a careful eye on Louis. “You said it amplified his aura?” Harry nods. “Harry,” Zayn huffs. “You literally fused part of his soul into yours.”

His brows furrow deeply and he tugs on his bottom lip. “That can’t be right.”

Zayn slips a finger onto Harry’s forearm. The contact glows a soft plum colour. “No,” he shakes his head minutely. “No he’s definitely in there. I could see it before but I’m sure now.”

With a calming breath, Harry asks in worry, “Is he okay?”

The mage purses his lips a little before he responds. “From what I can tell,” He says quietly, “They just cursed him by flipping him around and forcing him to soak up surrounding energy from the atmosphere. Obviously, having that much inside him wasn’t good; it was too intense. Your soul is much more mellow, which isn’t, like, a bad thing. I think you ended up taking what he couldn’t handle. 

“He doesn’t need what you took and it wasn’t originally part of him, so it’s not going to have any drastic changes to his personality,“ He breaks off for a moment before adding, “You can house that extra energy but you might act a little differently. I’d try to release it back into the atmosphere but it’s rooted too deep, I think. I can’t really tell where you start and he begins. If I didn’t know Louis, I wouldn’t even know it wasn’t you.”

And, well. That’s a lot. Harry certainly doesn’t feel any different. He didn’t even realize that he kept the extra energy.

“Secrets don’t make friends, lads,” Louis scoffs at them from where he’s curled up at the table. There’s not any bite to it but Harry can hear the suspicious tone.

“Our whole friendship was forged from secrets,” Harry says slyly with a wink. He hopes it’s enough to evade an interrogation later.

They leave only a few minutes later, Niall happily carrying an armful of ipe timber while Liam slings a log of hickory behind his neck, securing it with a hand dropping over the curve of the wood on either side of his head. Apparently, he’s going to make his own recurve bow from scratch and is unspeakably excited to do so. The blacksmith and elf just smile and nod their heads fondly at him chattering on about the process being way different from making a longbow. The pair of them are too exhausted to pay attention. 

The copious amounts of snow on the ground shocks him a little. It looks nothing like how it did earlier in the day before the sun went down. Louis does stumble over himself a few times through it, so Harry keeps his word and carries him to the cabin with his cloak wrapped around them both. Zayn lets them take his shift with a weird look at the blacksmith.

Something shifts between Harry and Louis when they wake up. He doesn’t know if the calamity of the situation finally hits them or if part of Louis’ fabricated soul is to blame, but it feels like a shift in a positive direction. It sort of soothes him, makes him feel like maybe all of this could turn out okay.

The truth is, none of them know what they’re doing. For as much as the dishonoured nobles know, it doesn’t guide them as much as they’d like it to. They’re flying blind with only some guess as to what they need to do to _maybe_ make things right. It’s utterly and wholly terrifying.

But with Louis waking up next to him every morning, rubbing sleep from his blue, blue, blue eyes with a yawn, it all feels a little less heavy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a [visual gallery](https://andersconesgallery.tumblr.com/x) and it's best viewed on browser. the boy's photos are in chronological order and are parallel to the progress in the fic, top to bottom.
> 
> [celia's playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1h0AxitSUh67QgkTIxhOhp)  
> [my spotify ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0Pd4o93KLkbJXMTiJxNsMq) // [ youtube playlist ](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A) (songs linked in fic) 
> 
> shout out to my beta https://userkant.tumblr.com/ and artist celia https://louisprideflag.tumblr.com/
> 
> my tumblr: anderscones.co.vu


	5. Flinch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> contains scenes with jay and fizzy. spans most of this chapter, see notes for summary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 8.8k
> 
> i love the world, i just don't love the way it makes me feel.

Louis

The days pass on and Louis knows he should visit his mother. He’d said he would be up as soon as he could and really, he could have come up the day after he sent the kids. He just doesn’t want to answer any questions.

_Why did you send these children to me?_

_What’s going on?_

_Are you okay?_

_Why so urgent?_

_Why did you wait so long to visit?_

_Explain, please._

It’s too daunting. There’s no way he could handle it. He has to, though. He _really_ can’t put it off any longer, not with festivities and his birthday coming up. They’re well past frost and sprinkles of snow, but they’ve yet to truly feel the wrath of winter in full blast. It’s only a matter of time before it arrives in full swing.

He says something to the boys one morning while Harry and Liam work on breakfast and Niall carves out a hand rest on his new bow. Zayn still has his nose stuffed into that damn book. Louis waits until there’s a lull between the knight and blacksmith to say anything.

“I, uh,” He starts with clearing his throat, “I’m going to visit my mum for a day or two.”

Zayn’s head snaps up, the only movement between the four of them. “What?”

“I sent her the kids the day I saw The Old Ones. She has no idea what’s going on, just that I handed her a dozen orphans with practically no notice,” He says to the table. “It’s only right I go see her and give her some answers.”

“Kids?” Niall asks curiously. “From the city?” Louis nods in confirmation. “So she’s got something like twenty children in her care?”

“Look,” Louis starts wearily, “I did give her money a few weeks ago _and_ when I sent them. The two eldest of the orphans were able to look after the other ones all on their own, plus Lottie and Fizzy are just about of age. Everything should be okay, but that’s why I’m seeing her. I can’t just leave her to fend like that.”

“You shouldn’t go alone,” Zayn says immediately.

“I don’t want to tear any of you away from this,” Louis admits quietly as he picks at his fingers. “Unless you don’t mind?”

“I’ll come,” Zayn and Harry say at the same time. Louis looks up to find them staring at each other and it almost feels ominous. Niall and Liam must feel it too because they both peek at the elf to gauge his reaction.

“Lads?” He gestures to Niall and Liam, ignoring the strange stare down. “Do you think you two could do without us for a minute?”

Liam glances at Zayn. It’s so quick that Louis thinks he imagined it. “I think so.”

“You want Harry to come?” The mage asks simply as if that was the most important thing to glean out of the conversation. He knows Zayn, though. There’s an edge of petulance and disbelief to it that rubs him wrong.

“Well, he offered, didn’t he?”

Zayn clenches his jaw lightly. “The fewer people who come means it’s less likely we get spotted.”

 _Then don’t come,_ he wants to snap. He settles for, “We’ll have less trouble with highwaymen and more help with the kids.”

He responds so hotly that his eyes immediately flicker from hazel into full-blown amethyst. “Help with what? They don’t even know him.” 

Louis finds himself standing forcefully with his own fury. Zayn’s face changes instantly, morphing into something softer and regretful as the film reveals his tawny gaze underneath just as quickly as it came. The mage straightens up and looks almost unsure. It’s a foreign demeanor and doesn’t quite sit right on his tanned skin.

Louis wants to spit and make a scene but he knows he shouldn’t so he grits his words out tightly, face carefully blank. “I don’t know what the _hell_ the issue is,” He huffs out quietly, “But you are being _really_ fucking rude.”

Louis glides his way tensely out of the room when no one says anything, calling behind him, “I’m leaving tomorrow morning. Come or don’t. I don’t care.”

  


* * *

  


Zayn

Zayn and Louis don’t fight. That’s their thing. Even when Zayn has enough anger to go up against the world, Louis is the one person he lets in, something Louis feels mutually. Or used to. He doesn’t know anymore, really.

It feels like he fucked up. Maybe not as badly as leaving the rogue on his own for two years, but considering they got past that, inadvertently insulting Harry’s importance feels colossal now.

After Louis leaves, he turns back around in his chair to face Harry, who just looks shell-shocked. Niall and Liam make the air tense with uncertainty.

“We’re friends, right?” Harry asks quietly to Louis’ empty chair. Zayn nods slowly, apology on his pointed tongue. “Then why did that feel like you hate me?”

The words knock all the air out of his chest. It reverberates awfully. “You have to believe me when I say I love being your family.” It’s difficult to get out but, even as much as he wants to run from this conversation, he has to wipe the hurt from Harry’s face. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. She… she’s my mum, too.”

“You could have just said so,” Harry replies so softly.

“I should have. I’m just...” Zayn pauses while he looks for the right words, “Not used to baring myself like that,” He sighs heavily. “Jay means a lot to me, and for Louis to keep me out of plans and just put me on the same level as you? That’s unfair. Certainly doesn’t feel right no matter how close the pair of you are. You’re not her son. I am.”

“You should tell Lou that when he calms down,” Harry says, wrapping his toned arms around himself guardedly.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” He murmurs. “It has nothing to do with what I think of you. We’re friends, yeah? We don’t break. All of us are a team.”

Harry nods cautiously with a searching look at Zayn. “Why is he so angry?”

“Partly because he’s Louis, partly because of me. Mostly because you’re… you,” Zayn replies without thinking much of it.

“Because I’m me?”

Niall snorts from where he’s sitting by the stove with his knife. “Harry,” he says gently, “You have to see it, right?”

Zayn honestly can’t believe it when he shakes his head no. Zayn sends a glance to Liam, who looks just as bewildered, if a bit more understanding.

Harry takes note of how they all look at him and frowns. “What?”

“Louis’ quite fond of you, isn’t he?” Liam asks when makes himself busy and pulls breakfast onto plates, casually not looking at anyone.

“I guess, but he doesn’t treat me any differently than the rest of you.”

Zayn gives him a leveling stare. “That’s absolutely not true, Harry.”

Harry chews on his bottom lip and Zayn watches on as the blacksmith turns over the information. He looks almost troubled and it hurts Zayn to see. This isn’t a reaction he expected at all.

“Alright?” Niall asks with concern.

“What do you think it means?”

“Dunno. You’d have to ask him,” Comes the soothing lilt. “Is there something wrong?”

With more lip-biting, Harry hesitates. “You think he fancies me?”

There’s a tense beat where the three of them all look at each other and then back to Harry. Liam speaks carefully. “Is that a problem? Do… don’t you fancy him back?”

Panic crosses his face before quickly calming down into a mask. “What makes you think that?”

Another silence passes before Liam says “Harry…” When the blacksmith just stares blankly, he starts again. “You’ll break his heart, Hazza.”

When Harry opens his mouth to respond, Zayn butts in. “It’s okay to think of him as more than a friend, you know.”

That seems to finally break something down in him. “I… I’ll be back.” And he takes off, following the same path Louis took into the bitter air.

  


* * *

  


Harry

Harry walks thickly through the snow that falls violently around him. Louis left almost no trace of having even stormed out. He’d been bewildered and impressed the first time he watched Louis hop on top of the white powder with his light feet, leaving the barest indents in his wake. It’s no different this morning.

He follows the barely-there trail, making a mess of the undisturbed snow that appeared out of nowhere over the last ten minutes or so. It gets into the top of his boots and his arms are freezing from not having the foresight to grab his cloak on the way out of the cabin. He resolutely ignores it all, one thing on his mind.

There’s no way they were right, obviously. He and Louis are just friends. Anything else would be… illegal. And frowned upon. He heaves a frustrated sigh at himself. Harry knows that that opinion doesn’t mean much. He’s so tired of living in fear of people finding out about the way he is and is sick of the heart ache that comes with just wanting to be himself. He’s tired of wanting people like him to be safe and having to push it down- out of the way for the sake of people who don’t know their arse from their mouth.

But, there’s no reason for a relationship like that to cultivate between them. They’re just friends and this is hardly the time or place to be having feelings like that.

[Hate To See Your Heart Break - Paramore](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4WGaXgUViNM&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=15&t=0s)

Yet here’s Harry, following Louis through wind and cold, would be soaking himself through if not for the water resistance charms Zayn cast on all their clothes, just to see if he’s alright. With this realisation staring him in the face, he’s not so sure of the void of his own feelings.

Putting things together is agonizing and breaks his brain a little. Before the boys said anything, Harry hadn’t realized how different his and Louis’ friendship is from theirs. He’s close with the other three and Louis treats them like the brothers he’s never had, but there’s something subtle that courses between just the two of them. It’s something warm and a bit fond. The feeling draws them together and builds a little world for them to be alone in even when the boys are being loud and trying to engage.

Louis doesn’t let anyone hurt Harry’s feelings. Ever. He’s always defensive and makes sure to side with him loudly whenever Harry happens to have an odd opinion or makes a comment that could be seen as weird. Sometimes Louis defends Harry when he would normally go for the throat with his teasing if it were anyone else. Louis doesn’t let him get away with everything but even when he calls him out, it somehow feels different to when he does it to the other boys.

They’ve spent an increasing amount of time together since they met, definitely way more than with anyone else. He’d previously thought it was to do with Liam and Zayn slowly becoming a unit and preferring each other’s company over anyone else’s and Niall needing his space much more frequently than the rest of the group, but now he wonders if it was something else entirely.

Harry likes being by himself just as much as he likes spending time with people he loves. Sitting quietly and people watching is a nice way to spend time, he thinks. It was something he did all the time before coming out to this cabin, and even now he sometimes lets conversations flow without saying a single word. He likes being a bystander and not being involved, but by being with Louis, it feels like he can maintain that while having someone he can share his thoughts with under his breath. It doesn’t feel like an intrusion on his alone time. Having Louis makes everything better.

The trail leads him to the edge of the wooded area by the lake and mysteriously disappears. His first instinct is to look up into the trees, where he sees a foot dangling ominously above.

“Let it alone,” Louis sighs from his place in the air.

“Can I come up?” Harry asks with every intention of not letting it alone.

Louis bitterly agrees, “If you can make it.”

So Harry starts his climb, hands hurting from the cold and the unforgiving scratch of the bark, body burning with past days soreness and from climbing a fucking tree. He’s out of breath by the time he reaches Louis’ branch, waiting on the one just below him.

“How are you gonna get down?” The elf says with a cheeky, subdued smirk where he leans against the trunk of the tree.

“Maybe just fall to my death and all of this will be over,” Harry jokes while he peers at the snow-covered ground.

“That’s not funny.”

Harry regards him shortly in surprise. “Sorry,” He responds back regretfully as he hoists himself to a sitting position on the thick limb the elf is on and mirrors his position of having a leg dangle on either side of their seat.

Even now in this awkward situation Harry finds himself in, there’s something comfortable about it.

They sit in silence for a while, just watching the sun cross the sky while avoiding one another’s gazes, which is hard to do since they’re facing each other.

Eventually, Harry breaks the quiet. “I talked to Zayn. He doesn’t feel good about snapping.”

“Doesn’t excuse him.”

“No,” Harry assents, “But he’s scared,” He absently reaches out to play with Louis’ hand, the flesh surprisingly soft after constantly scrambling up trees and viciously wielding weapons. “At least keep that in mind when he comes to you.”

Leaning his head against the trunk, Louis lets out a deep sigh, eyes searching the branches above for answers. “What’s he even worried about? It’s just a couple days away.”

“It’s something more than that. You should talk to him when the both of you aren’t so hot.” The small hand in his tightens lightly, forcing Harry to look up at the elf. There’s a red ring surrounding his bright eyes and he softens his gaze. “Are you okay, Lou?”

“‘Course,” He responds easily. There’s so much locked away in those deep blues that Harry wants to release it all and never let the boy in front of him worry about anything ever again. It’s painful to think that such an open and caring person might be holding back something heavy to keep it together, probably for the sake of the group.

Harry wants to fix it. He wants to fix everything so Louis doesn’t hurt anymore. Maybe it’s the link between their souls, but the space between his lungs twinges painfully at the very thought of Louis being exhausted and torn up inside. He desperately wants to reach out and soothe away the heaviness. The dam he’s built to keep his emotions in doesn’t suit him and Harry hates the way it hides the real Louis underneath it.

 _This is what being a partner is about_ , Harry thinks with realisation washing over him. Wanting to fix, wanting to share, wanting to compromise. Having someone there to support you that you want to support right back. Knowing that everything will be fine in the end because as long as you have each other, everything else is just fodder. 

They’ve become partners, accidentally. He’s not sure if that’s good or bad, so he allows the fact to just exist. It takes up space and it confuses the hell out of him, but even with all the grey-area it brings to his already hectic life, he’s certain that he doesn’t want it to change.

Earlier, fear ripped through his body at the very thought of interpreting how Louis felt about him, and it was possibly even scarier to sift through his own feelings. The very idea of entertaining feelings for each other seemed baffling and he even ascribed the situation with a big warning sign of STAY AWAY. DANGER AHEAD. By all rights, now is a very bad time for them to fall into something more.

Harry moves forward and tucks his knees under Louis’ where they hang off the wide branch and he huddles close, pulling Louis in and cradling the back of his head. He feels a thick breath released against his neck as lithe, clothed arms wrap around his middle, the entirety of the elf’s slight weight resting against his body. There are no words exchanged between them, but there doesn’t have to be, he thinks. This closeness is enough for his thoughts to sink into Louis’ skin like a soothing balm. 

They stay like that for a long time, just breathing into one another’s chests, and Harry wonders if there really is such a thing as a bad time for falling.

  


* * *

  


The morning is awkward. Zayn shuffles around Louis carefully, not daring to look at or speak to him. He's quiet for the duration of their walk to the carriages and for most of the ride to Devlin. He only spoke once to give a direction to the driver for a short cut and to thank him for the ride while Harry paid with a grateful smile. Zayn goes to walk in the direction of the town but Harry stops him with a hand on his heavily clothed arm. Snow soaks into the thick bag he's carrying (spell book stowed carefully inside) and dusts the floppy, raven locks that fall artfully into his violet and cinnamon eyes. 

"You guys need to talk this out before we get to your mum's place. We're here to take care of some things for her and let her know what's going on, and this,” He points between the two of them. “Won’t help," He stops to fix Louis with a firm stare, "Please." 

Louis hesitates but nods anyway and looks to Zayn, motioning to walk ahead. They leave Harry to follow behind them at a distance where he can barely hear their soft chatter. The minutes pass on and both of them visibly relax over the short time it takes for a small, crowded house to come into view. The home sits close to a group of other smaller houses and there's an overflow of now-dead ivy covering the low stone wall that surrounds the quaint-looking structure. A series of flower beds and planters that line the inside of the wall pop into sight as they get closer. 

The surviving flowers are beautiful and some glow from above the frost. Harry is sure half of them aren't from this Kingdom, or even this land, especially for how well they're faring in the cold. There are a few dragon fruit bushes emanating heat and aren’t surrounded by snow like the rest of the plants are. The climate isn’t right, either, for a small cluster of flowers he’s seen exactly once when he visited Gemma in Taro and took a tour in a massive garden. The memory of the air being so wet he could barely breathe comes to the front of his mind as he peers at the strange, electric petals. He runs a finger through the air in the vicinity of the plant and yanks his hand back when it leaves little droplets of water on his skin.

Shaking out of his shock, Harry absently takes in the tonnes of noise and voices coming from inside the house in front of them. There's about a dozen children in the mostly-concealed yard behind the home playing in the snow. 

Before they can get all the way down the stoned path, the door swings open and a young blonde stands in the doorway, hands on her tan-clothed hips and looking very authoritative for her petite stature and young nature. Harry figures her big blue eyes are child-like when they aren't so stern. The blacksmith follows the two tense elves into what he assumes is certain death. 

"You have _a lot_ to answer for, Louis Tomlinson," The girl says as she wags an elegant finger at the group. "If I wasn't so happy to see you fools, I'd be kicking your arses all over the next five kingdoms." Louis leans forward and scoops her into his arms, the girl dropping most pretense of being angry. Harry thinks she might be crying as she yanks Zayn's sleeve from the two's embrace and burrows deep into his chest instead. 

"The pair of you gave us such a scare. Louis told us you disappeared and then only a few months ago he sent a letter about The Old Ones and we just didn't know..." She trails off from the mages neck. "We couldn't get a hold of either of you and Janna was so shaken up after we got all the little ones to sleep." 

Zayn runs his hands over her silky, pale locks. "We're fine," He soothes. "We should go inside." 

The girl casts a curious glance at Harry when she lets go and leads the three of them through the open door, plain dress fluttering around her. Cloaks lift away from the wall with the sheer volume of them. Little boots line up underneath, some organized and others scattered around the floor in uneven piles and Harry smiles at the character of the home he’s only just walked into. 

The house might've been loud and bustling when they were outside, but now, the silence is deafening in the cramped room they stand in. Several sets of eyes are trained on them, noise floating in distantly from other parts of the house. Children sit in nested heaps of blankets around the fireplace and on the surrounding furniture with dice split between all of them. There are pillows everywhere, likely serving as makeshift beds for the several dozen unexpected children. 

"You lot have gone quiet in there-" A voice comes from their left. A graceful, small woman with a strong resemblance to the girl behind them emerges from what smells like a kitchen. As soon as she spots their group, she drops her rag in shock and runs right for Louis and Zayn, almost knocking them over as she engulfs them both in a tight hug, feathery bronze hair falling out of the sloppy bun secured to the back of her head. Tears run down her ruddy cheeks when she nuzzles into Zayn's neck. 

"I'm so happy you two are safe," She murmurs and leans back to clutch both of their faces and bores into them with worried sapphire eyes. "We have to talk, obviously, but not now- too many little eyes and ears. Please go see your sisters and the other children- I expect the whole story after they've gone to bed." The boys nod their understanding and the woman gives them another hug before sliding the bags from all three of them and tucking them into a closet next to her, giving Harry a polite smile. "I'm making lunch now, so send everyone back my way after you've spoken to them." 

[Northern Downpour - Panic! At The Disco](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pvsQ1Mvnue4&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=16&t=0s)

"We missed you," Louis says wetly with a hand on her elbow. Harry can only assume the woman is their mother. 

"Of course," She smiles and pats him on the cheek, "Go! Go, the kids will be delighted to see your beautiful faces." 

Harry spends the next hour following the two around like a lost dog. He can mostly tell who is and isn't part of the family by blood. There's a set of twins who are about twelve that try to give the elves a stern expression but melt into agreeable puddles as soon as they get hugs, then another set of toddling twins that look so happy to be scooped up by them. The older girls look like the one who stood in the doorway earlier and the way the little ones respond to Louis and Zayn is nearly instinctual. Harry honestly cannot believe the odds of birthing more than one set of twins on top of at least two other children and is more than sympathetic. 

Everyone else is mismatched, to say the least. There are scaled and feathered children and some who glow and some with jade coloured skin and squashed faces. There's even a mermaid they find in a small barrel with wheels on it, though Harry isn't sure where she came from. Horan's Realm is totally landlocked, Devlin not any closer to a large enough water source to house merpeople. He doesn't want to think about it any deeper for fear of what conclusions he might come to. 

They roam the garden after hitting all the rooms inside the larger-than-it-looks house. Snow gets in his boots as they play with the children and talk to them, Louis so very sweet with every single one of them. He can't help but smile at the running theme of soft and silly interactions Louis has with everyone. 

It's a funny thing, how much he's noticed in just the last day or so. He's catalogued the little moments he and Louis share where it feels like it's just them, like they're both in on the same secret. He sees how he's looked at and notices the intimate touches granted to him when they orbit or just because and it gives him a light, heady feeling. Of course, they're returned in full and, at random times throughout the day, Zayn catches them but doesn't react aside from a small bit of amusement. 

And it's weird, because everything _feels_ different to Harry, though he knows that the things that come as a breath of fresh air have been happening for much longer than just today. 

Their group eventually makes way towards a staircase that leads to a basement he never would have guessed was there, and Harry feels like there can’t _possibly_ be more children. 

Flora lines the steps down, some on the ground, some hanging from the ceiling and railing. Shelves have been carved into the dirt walls and synthetic sunlight shines down out of the top of them, illuminating their descent and feeding all the plant life. Harry figures it should be freezing, but it's actually warm enough in the basement to be mistaken for a spring day. A slight whistle reaches his ears as they stop at the very bottom, the source seeming to come from a vent in the corner of the room positioned in the ceiling over a bubbling cauldron. 

The space is about the size of the living room above them and the walls are lined with makeshift bookcases filled with vials and bottles containing powders, liquids, and gooey things Harry doesn't want to think about. Labels in beautiful script cover every single one. Buckets and crates litter the floor and are filled with random things, including full bottles and what looks like sealed containers of dried plants. 

Small vials are strung up along the ceiling, the liquid inside glowing a dim yellow, though they cast enough light around the room to make it bright. In the corner sits a comfortable-looking bed next to a single bookshelf filled to bursting with books. Some seem to be for entertainment, but most appear to have names of tomes that give recipes for potions. A lot of them look like they could be homemade. 

Something that looks vaguely like a glass helmet with what Harry can only assume are breathing tubes lays on a workbench, which is slightly off center in the room in front of an open set of large, picturesque shelves. 

A tall girl is leaning over the workbench to reach for something under the table top. She pops up with a vial in her hand, back facing the stairs. He's a little surprised but also impressed that the owner of all that literature is a girl- he doesn't know many women who are able to read or write because of how frowned upon it is. Harry immediately notices she’s wearing trousers and a loose shirt. 

He'd met women that Gemma is friends with who would organize public meetings around Taro in protest of how women are treated, right down to the clothes they wear. They would sport garments typically belonging to men to ruffle feathers and start a changing tide, sometimes wearing less clothes than usual, too. He wonders if this girl does the same. 

When she turns around, she jumps at the sudden appearance of the three men and visibly relaxes when she spots the two familiar elves. The girl doesn't say anything as she glides smoothly around the packed floor and pulls the pair in close. 

"You fucking idiots," She says fondly over Zayn's shoulder where her chin rests. "Mum was so damn worried, you know. Just money! No explanation, just 'For the kids!' That seems so much scarier than whatever has to be going on." 

Zayn detaches from their trio a moment later and scans the shelving the girl was stood across from. "Fiz," He says as he rounds the table and picks up an ornate bottle amongst the rest of the ingredients, "Can you help us?" 

"I'd have to know what was happening to do that," Fiz shoots back with a hard stare. 

Louis' lips press into a hard line. "We're having a talk with mum later. You should be there. Any extra potions you’ve got would be really helpful." 

The girl turns this over for a second before nodding firmly. "They don't call me Fizzy for nothing," 

She suddenly pokes a finger into Harry's hair. It catches him off guard, so he curls his hand around the calloused digit in defence. "Who's this?" 

"That's Harry, love," Louis says as he detangles their wary hands from the hold they've got on each other. "And he's not an animal. He's in the same trouble as us." 

Fizzy eyes him as if he’s dangerous, a sceptical glare sent at him. She's still holding a vial in her hand and suddenly thrusts it out for Harry to take. "Drink this, please?" She asks blankly. 

Harry glances at Louis and Zayn as he cautiously takes the glass. 

"Fiz-" Louis starts but is silenced with a look from the girl. 

"What is it?" He asks curiously. 

"Do you trust my brothers?" 

"Of course," He says defensively with a furrowed brow. 

"So, if I’m going to be making potions for you, you’re going to have to trust me too." 

He stares hard at the little bottle full of deep, red liquid. There's a swirl of particles floating around inside that seems just a touch menacing. He eyes Louis again, who doesn’t look entirely convinced his sister isn’t trying to poison him. With a deep breath and a shrug, he carefully uncorks the bottle and takes a healthy sip with a preemptive grimace.

A beat passes as he processes what he’s tasting on the back of his tongue and is largely surprised at the lack of horrid side effects. He tries to pinpoint the exact flavour that feels uncannily familiar and stops dead with realization.

"Is this wine?" 

The girl sends a sweet, genuine smile at him and takes the bottle and cork back. "Yes! Well, sort of. Is it any good?" 

Harry nods and focuses on if his body feels any different. "Like eating fruit, actually." 

"Perfect! Normal wine takes so long to make and I figured out how to make it in just a few hours. That one is part of a premature batch; it's only the flavour and not been fermented yet. I might be able to open a winery with this if it can get people drunk," She spits excitedly as she bounces around the room, pulling items from shelves and cradling them in her long arms. She wanders over to the cauldron in the corner and leans down to start a fire in the pit below it. 

Louis rolls his eyes and starts ascending the stairs with Harry towed by the wrist. "Mum says lunch is ready." 

  


* * *

  


Louis 

The rest of the day goes by in a happy blur. They spend it playing with the kids, who all seem ecstatic that Zayn and Harry have joined them. A few errands were run and bits of the house were tended to and it was all very carefree and refreshing to not have to worry about anything for a few hours. 

Partway through the day, Louis finds Harry and Jay chatting with one another at the kitchen table, his mother telling the story of how Louis' father sent them the deed for this very house after having inherited it from his parents. He'd been banished to his homeland shortly before due to accusations of treason and magical endangerment, though Jay says she thinks it was set up. She talks about Mark and Dan and how Mark died of a particularly bad illness years ago and how Dan is out of Horan’s Realm now for work to send what he can to Jay and the kids. 

They sip at their mugs while Louis fondly watches them talk. Pride builds in his chest at the thought of them getting along. 

When his mother asks about how Harry met Louis and Zayn, the rogue joins them, hearing Harry explain how Louis found him and that they've been living with Liam and Niall for the last few months. He makes Louis blush in embarrassment when he mentions how much of a dick he was when they'd first met but smiles adoringly at him afterward. They stay away from the harder stuff to discuss and save it for later in the night, which Louis is exceptionally grateful for.

Fizzy appears a few minutes later with a request for anyone to help her taste test the wine she'd been able to make alcoholic. Bravely, Harry offers to do it and follows her out of the room, just as excited as she is. 

Jay turns to him contentedly, "I like him," 

Louis smiles to himself and replies, "So do I."

  


* * *

  


As night falls and the mostly-adults put the kids to sleep, the light feeling he's acquired leaves his chest and is replaced with a dull, pounding ache. 

Janna argues with Lottie about going to bed, making the point several times that, yes, this does involve her, yes, it _is_ her business, she is just as old as Fizzy, and no, she won't go to bed with everyone else. His mum ushers the pair into the kitchen where Fizzy waits with Zayn and Harry. 

"C'mon, loves," She says sweetly, glancing at Louis while he puts the kettle on. He can feel her patient stare on his back when he reaches for seven mugs. Harry joins him at the counter a second later to help fill them with the right loose teas and pour the hot water. It would feel domestic if he wasn't about to deliver grave news. 

After all the mugs are passed out, he stares intently into the sort-of dark liquid in his cup, circling the rim with a soft finger. Zayn saves him when it's apparent he doesn’t have the will to explain. 

The mage recounts Louis' story from the forest and how he'd ended up working for the Court and could confirm Louis' fears of The Old Ones. He goes into how they're taking on the responsibility with a blacksmith, an ex-knight, and a runaway prince. He brings up the spell book and the ancient magic within it that they plan to use to defeat the coven that summoned The Old Ones and put the creatures back into the cages where they belong. 

By the end, Lottie is silently crying and Janna looks like she might be sick. Fizzy has a determined way about her. 

"I want to help. You said you needed me- what can I do?" She asks eagerly and Louis can't help but feel a swell of emotion burning in his chest at how fierce she is. 

"We need help making potions. We don't really have the ingredients or talent," Zayn says quickly. "There's only so much we can get our hands on and it can be very difficult to get what we need, especially because we're wanted or some of the conditions have passed." 

Fizzy is nodding and standing to head to her room downstairs when Jay stops her. "No." 

The woman seems apprehensive with her arms folded and face stern, looking directly at her birth son. "You don't need to do this." Mostly everyone around the room focused completely on Zayn and it's the first time anyone has so much as looked at him aside from Harry, who stood with him against the counter, pushing discreetly into his side as a form of comfort. For which one of them, Louis doesn't know. "You don't have to be some big hero." 

"Mum, it's just us," Louis whispers desperately, "The fucking King wouldn't listen because he's got his head up his own arse. We're the only ones who know about this and it's not like we can go around town asking for help. Either the coven would catch on or they'd turn us in to the Court- we're on the run, remember?" He glances down into his still-hot mug and feels Harry press in close again. "Our hands are tied right now because we're the only thing that gives everyone a fighting chance. There's no way we can just sit and let something like this happen when we at least have an opportunity to stop it." 

"Baby, please don't do this," Jay pleads. She has a composure about her that Louis admires in this situation. He knows it's killing her inside to even listen to the way Zayn spoke about how dangerous the situation is and how they plan to fully plunge themselves into that danger but, still, she stands resolute and strong. Tears pool in her big, blue eyes and Louis feels broken when he shakes his head at her. 

"Mum, I wish we didn't have to. I'm lucky to even have found the boys and made up with Zayn, otherwise it'd be just me," Louis reasons with her weakly. His voice threatens to give out on him. "It was dangerous to get our hands on the spell book, but we’ve got it and they don’t. We've got an advantage." 

The tears spill over and she wipes at them surreptitiously, head tilted back. Louis puts his mug down before wandering over and pulling her in tight. "I guess I've always raised fighters, huh?" She laughs bitterly as she cradles him back. “Oh, how I wish I'd raised cowards instead." 

His heart clenches painfully and all the emotion he's been tamping down bubbles over; he's crying now too. "It's for you and the girls and Ernie, I swear." 

"I know, love, I know." 

They all disband shortly after that, Zayn disappearing with Lottie into the basement after Fizzy to catalogue what she has in her stores. Lottie goes with them since the pair will share a bed to make some space for the three boys in Zayn and Louis' old room, the older twins giving up the other cot in there by sleeping with Jay. 

"I'm exhausted," Louis sighs out as he flops stomach-down onto his old bed after trudging up the stairs with Harry. "Today was..." 

"A lot," Harry finishes as he sits gingerly on the soft mattress next to him. He can hear the blacksmith sigh heavily and ruffle his quickly-growing hair. Louis turns his head from the pillow and watches the tense outline of the man. 

"What are you thinking about?" It's the first thing that pops into his head. 

Harry shrugs. "Mainly just how ugly this situation is. And how beautiful your family and your home are." 

Louis grins into the dim room and pokes his knee out at Harry. "Well, thank you." 

Harry sprawls himself out over Louis legs and he can't say he minds too much. "I can see where you get your stubbornness from. Your sisters are so blunt and sure about what they have to say. And your mum? I know mine would have thrown a fit and completely broke down and my father would have definitely been so cross with me for making her cry. It ultimately would have kept me from going anywhere.” He marvels up at his hands fondly before saying, “She's really lovely." 

"Me best friend, if I'm honest," He admits softly as he stares at Zayn's bed across from them. "I love her more than anything in this world and she's never blamed me or made me feel like a burden like so many other people have. She understands me." 

"I'm happy you have someone so wonderful in your life, especially as your mum," Harry replies just as soft. Louis hears the thud of heavy boots drop on the floor and thinks he should shed his too. Just as he's about to ask Harry to let him up, the boy shuffles around and grabs Louis' ankle to yank his shoes off. He laughs into his pillow. 

"You're bizarre," He says breathlessly. 

"We've been in them _all_ day," He whinges as he climbs up and lays between Louis and the wall as if it’s a relevant explanation. He looks squished but content enough that he doesn't care his back is shoved into the cold wood while Louis is laid out over the rest of the comfy down. The blacksmith gives him a blinding smile that Louis can't help but melt at. 

His heart races and he stares dumbly at the boy next to him. Suddenly it feels like he can't breathe with how much he feels. He ducks his face back into the pillow in his arms and assesses the situation. _This is not the time for this!_ He thinks bitterly. _Even if it was, does he even think of me that way? What about me being a halfblood?_

He's gotten too attached and let himself stumble into this like an idiot. A hand sneaks into the middle of his back and a thumb strokes carefully against his shirt. Harry stays quiet in his ministrations, probably assuming Louis’ sudden withdrawal is from the weight of the responsibility they've carried for a few months now. 

"Hey," Harry whispers soothingly. "Let's sleep, yeah?" 

As they slip under the covers and leave a candle lit for Zayn when he comes up, Louis wonders how he's let himself fall in love with some boy while the world ends. 

  


* * *

  


[Love Is A Losing Game - Amy Winehouse](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gncxPtNrMrE&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=17&t=0s)

Louis wakes up to a solid warmth sagged into his front, which is weird because he's used to waking up in his mum's house freezing in the dead of winter. They lay hearthstones, but with no fuel maintaining the warmth, they die out and mercilessly leave the inside as frigid as the outside. 

Lavender and jasmine and something comfortingly familiar assaults his nose in gentle tendrils. His eyes are reluctant and glued shut by sleep when he tries to open them, but he manages. Soft curls sit carelessly in random patterns across the pillow he and Harry share and Louis can't help but smile at the little, frizzy locks. His right arm is mostly dead where it lays under their heads and the other is tight over the blacksmith's waist. 

He feels lucky but also incredibly cursed to have woken up like this, a lovely boy in his arms that could maybe be his under different circumstances. A separate world, another time- a place they'd be safe to love each other without fear and where Harry would feel the same about him and they could sit in Louis' bit of forest he's claimed for himself, eating lunch and swimming in his pond, or in a room full of things he holds dear that they could call their home. Somewhere that isn't here and now. He's heard Liam sing it enough, sweetly and mournfully to himself when he thinks no one is listening, and can't help but agree: _somewhere is a place nobody knows._

Reality crashes down around him harshly when his sleepy fingers twitch and brush the cold wall. He's not somewhere. He's right here, in a world that's threatened by monsters that Gods had to lock away themselves to keep the inhabitants on this planet safe. He and Harry are supposed to be focused on trying to replicate the cage those before them had constructed. They won't share warm meals that aren't followed by panic or training or preparation. The space between his lungs and his stomach clenches weirdly while he tries to quietly and quickly mourn their future and the lost fates where _could be_ 's and _would have been_ 's thrive. 

The sunlight filters onto them through the window next to their bed, leaving Harry in some sort of ethereal halo of light. It feels even more domestic than it had when he woke up, so much so that he completely loses his composure and just cries into the crook of his sleeping arm, hoping Harry doesn't wake up and that Zayn is dead to the world like usual. 

Everything is awful. 

This situation is all sorts of fucked up and his mum was right when she said Louis shouldn't have to be the one to fix it. Nobody should have to fix it! There should be no Old Ones, there shouldn't be any coven bringing them back from the depths of hell where they resided, and there shouldn't be a spell book detailing how to reverse it. 

He's just a nobody with a nobody lineage and no money and a bad attitude. He's nothing special- not important, not nice, not brave, and _certainly_ not a hero. Yet? Here he is, in his childhood bed, crying over himself and a lost love and the fact he has a massive responsibility because he can't, for fucking _once_ , keep his heart from being so goddamn soft. 

The thing is, he loves people, no matter how cynical he can be. Having a bleeding heart should be some sort of blessing but, really, it just feels like drowning. 

He's stuck between wanting to get over himself and wanting to crawl straight into the jaws of The Old Ones. Because, god, does he feel pathetic. Crying never got anybody anything except for a pounding headache and a runny nose, but he wants to let himself be fucking sad because it's not like this is just _nothing_. It's fucking nerve-wracking! It definitely qualifies for a breakdown, and maybe this is it. Maybe this is his one allowance of weakness before he fortifies and doesn't let himself feel this powerless again. 

As he calms down, Harry turns over to face him. Louis can't force himself to look. Harry pulls him in tightly and rubs his big hands down Louis' spine comfortingly, knee wedged in between the elf's thighs. 

"It's okay to not be okay, you know?" He whispers, hot breath hitting his nose gently. 

With his eyes still squeezed shut, he shakes his head into the limited space. "I can't just... lose it. I can't be unstable; there isn't any room for that. We're dealing with very dangerous things and one slip up from any one of us could end the whole thing. I don’t want it to be me." 

Louis swears he feels a kiss pressed into the hair by his forehead. "Right now we're not doing anything, yeah? You don't have the chance to mess anything up when we're just laying in bed," Harry says softly. It makes Louis wish even more that they could be together. Hearing him say things like that makes him feel understood and looked after, like as long as they have each other, they don't have to be afraid. Except, Louis is very afraid right now, even if it's mostly of himself. "We're all here for each other and none of us are alone in this. We keep each other safe." 

"I feel helpless." 

Harry pulls him even closer in response. "We’re making progress. I believe in us, Louis."

He turns his face to look at the man in his bed. There are crease marks on the right side of his face from the pillow and his eyes are rimmed in red with sleepiness, alertness not quite there yet. His lips seem pinker than usual. Louis draws his arm to his chest, barely jostling Harry as he goes. He plays with the strings on the neckline of the blacksmith’s shirt and lets his mind wander away from his misery. His index finger glances off of Harry’s skin and sends a vision of his dusty, pink energy into his thoughts.

Louis glances up. “You never told me why your aura is different.”

Panic flits across Harry’s face before settling into a facade. “It’s probably nothing.”

“Harry,” he warns. It gets the message across because his friend sucks in a breath and releases it with uncertainty in his eyes.

“Zayn says I must have fused part of you to me when I was undoing that hex the guards blasted you with,” The green in his eyes is so bright that not even worry can dim them. “He said we should both be fine, though.”

Louis frowns a little. “You have a piece of me attached to you.” Maybe that’s why his feelings are so strong. Guilt runs like ice through his veins. Knowing he must be putting some sort of strain on Harry’s aura or unwittingly having his own soul clasped around the blacksmith’s nearly sends him into another break down.

A pout must have appeared on his mouth because Harry starts to soothe him again. “It’s kind of nice, you know? The boys say we’re complementary and bring out the better parts of each other when we’re together. Having you right here,” He taps at his chest over Louis’ hands. “It’s like you’re with me always. I feel… braver. More present,” A moment passes between them as Louis processes that. “Is that weird? That I like having you around all the time?”

“No,” Louis answers honestly. “No, I feel the same.”

They don’t say anything more after that. Harry just pulls him in closer and lets Louis breathe sleepily into his neck. It's silent in the room, save for their breaths, and they stay tangled until Zayn stirs across the way, prompting them to join the rest of the house downstairs. 

It's unbearably quiet among the older inhabitants of the house. It feels so wrong, the young children running around playing and laughing through their breakfast while everyone else is crushed by the knowledge of the threat that looms over the land. 

Around noon, they need to leave to make it back to their cabin by nightfall. Fizzy supplies ingredients and bottles and they pack all of them into crates to load into the carriage. ("Don't be afraid to send me a letter if you need more- I'll have it delivered if I can get a hold of it.")

They say their goodbyes and kiss Jay on the cheek solemnly, who denies the gold all three of them try to get her to take. When Louis goes in for his hug, he whispers a feather charm and tucks the small pouch of money into the hood of her cloak. 

They file into the carriage silently, spending the whole ride restrained, and walk back to the cabin without a word. Louis can't stand it; it's driving him mad. It’s a blessing that he releases some tension when he can hear Niall and Liam laughing as they approach the front door. He nearly collapses in relief when the prince jumps on him and chatters about how much he missed the bunch and how busy he and Liam have been with keeping up on their little indoor garden. The knight watches on fondly from his perch on the bed. The stress over the three of them palpably dissipates almost instantly when they lay their bags on the floor. 

Louis could not be more thankful. 

The familiarity of home and a masquerade of normalcy and domesticity soothes his bones as he watches Zayn drop face first into the bed next to Liam with an understatement of a sigh. Snow flutters off his navy cloak and drips on the floor, but that doesn't deter the knight from running his sure fingers through Zayn's overgrown, raven hair and continuing to trail partway down his spine. 

"I think you need a haircut," says Liam fondly. 

"Watch your tongue, Payne," comes the tired, muffled reply. 

The setting is well-worn and warm and Louis can almost trick himself into feeling normal, but the threat and pressure of their responsibility pushes at the back of his mind. He can ignore it, in the meantime, as he and Harry unpack Fizzy's crates and force Zayn to hang up his cloak. 

For now, he's got to focus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> zayn and louis fight, make up. harry realises his feelings for louis. louis, zayn, and harry go to jay's and explain what's happening. they get help from fizzy with making potions. louis cries because he has feelings for harry and feels like he's not enough for him/the timing is god fucking awful. they come back to the cabin and there's a weird tension.
> 
> i have a [visual gallery](https://andersconesgallery.tumblr.com/x) and it's best viewed on browser. the boy's photos are in chronological order and are parallel to the progress in the fic, top to bottom.
> 
> [celia's playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1h0AxitSUh67QgkTIxhOhp)  
> [my spotify ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0Pd4o93KLkbJXMTiJxNsMq) // [ youtube playlist ](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A) (songs linked in fic) 
> 
> shout out to my beta https://userkant.tumblr.com/ and artist celia https://louisprideflag.tumblr.com/
> 
> my tumblr: anderscones.co.vu


	6. No Name Thunder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 12.2k
> 
> wouldn't it be nice if we were older?

Harry

Having spent so much time every day in front of a kiln so hot that it gave him a tan, Harry can, without a doubt, say that he hates being fucking cold.

That being said, when Louis asks him to come outside with him under the guise of training, he says yes in a heartbeat.

They don't train, though.

Harry is just closing the door when a pile of snow meets the side of his face, blinding him and leaving him shocked. He looks at the middle of the yard and just gapes when he sees Louis bent over and gathering up another clump to presumably throw at him again. He only dodges out of the way at the last second, a wet patch on the door where his head just was.

"I thought we were training!" He laughs out, arms wide open.

[Wouldn’t It Be Nice - The Beach Boys](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M6TK9xKgGmk&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=18&t=0s)

Louis runs backwards a little bit and giggles, "We are! I'm testing your coordination, Curly."

He smiles fondly at the tiny, energetic hops the elf takes and a small bubble of pride rises in his chest at the carefree nature because only a few days prior, this same boy was rendered non-verbal at the thought of explaining their situation to his family. His heart skips a beat at the wide, bright grin he bares as he stares right into Harry's eyes from across the lawn.

He runs after the bouncing boy with a light feeling in his chest, glad for the welcome distraction of the calm mood in the cabin. They throw handfuls of snow at each other that leave clouds of powdery dust in their wake, not bothering to pack it down into any sort of semblance of a ball. Harry eventually pins Louis down and they settle for shoving their cold hands in each other's necks and stuffing collars full of ice with yowls of protest until they're so out of breath they can't even laugh anymore. Harry plops down beside him and they lay in the snow uselessly, taking in deep breaths.

After a moment, Louis closes the almost imperceptible gap between them to lay in the V of Harry's legs, head pillowed with his own arms on the blacksmith's chest. Harry doesn't think twice about pulling him in tighter.

They don't talk about whatever it is they've got going on. He's noticed, the boys have _definitely_ noticed, and he's positive Louis has noticed too, but they never talk about it. Not about how Louis will cuddle Harry for no reason or the way he sits in his lap or how Harry makes everyone tea but Louis always comes first. They're maddeningly soft for one another and it's so obvious, but no one says a word.

He thinks he's okay with it, mostly because he wouldn't trade it for the world, partly because he's afraid of what they would say.

Harry adores Louis. That's one of those things no one says out loud, but underneath the adoration is a sort of magnetic pull. He can't help but orbit the elf, who orbits right back. They fit together like quirky little puzzle pieces and they read each other too well for only having known each other for such a short time. The fondness they return to one another is so blinding that Harry is nearly certain Louis wants more, just like him.

But because he knows Louis and reads his cues like a book, there's no way the elf would overcome his guilt and let himself have something so carefree in such a stressful time. Harry knows they would be better if everything was aired out because it's one less thing to worry about, but that's not how Louis would see it.

It would be something too hopeful, and that's just not something they can afford. Being hopeful means being cocky and being cocky could mean failure. It's not something he wants to risk, even if it would make him happier and possibly soothe his worrying. Harry gets it, he does, but he can't help but be the tiniest bit bitter.

Harry can let it go, he's knows, just put it aside until things are easy and they can breathe without looking over their shoulders constantly. He sure as hell doesn't want to, not even by a long shot, but Louis is laying on him after they've had a snow fight and is huffing contented breaths into the hollow of Harry's throat. His clothes are soaked through with a wet chill and his back is freezing with a bit of snow melting in his ear, but he doesn't care. He's got an armful of Louis and a promising taste of a future.

Honestly? It's close enough.

They lay there for a while until he hears Louis snore on his chest and he decides it's time for them to get up and go inside before they get frostbite. Harry gently wakes Louis and carries him back to the cabin, hands supporting the underside of the strong legs that wrap around either side of his waist while Louis clings onto his neck. With a bit of bending and stretching, he unlatches the door and kicks it open, not faltering when Zayn shoots him a raised eyebrow.

Louis' cloak isn't nearly as wet as Harry's, so he sets him right down on the bed and goes to strip the elf of his cold boots while he rubs his eyes tiredly. It's adorable and sleepy and soft and he really can't help himself when he smiles fondly at the sight. Niall huffs in the background as he stokes the wood in the fireplace with faux irritation.

Harry doesn't mind, just keeps going and ignores his own soaking clothes. When Louis looks down at him, he smiles back just as enamoured and burrows his fingers in Harry's damp curls. The blacksmith absolutely preens at the attention. Niall pretends to retch. They both ignore him in favour of indulging in each other and it's so fucking sickening that Harry knows he'd be just like their friends making ugly noises in the background if it were any of them (if he's honest, Liam and Zayn are getting there). He knows that they will tease because he and Louis live in each other's pockets.

He doesn't care. He just really doesn't.

* * *

Zayn

“Are you sure you know how to do this?” Zayn asks cautiously. He’s sitting on a stool in front of the fireplace reconsidering all his life decisions, Liam settled behind him with shears and a sharpened knife.

Liam snorts with a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Of course. I already shave every few days. How hard could it be to trim the rest of your hair evenly?”

The mage closes his eyes and bites at his bottom lip. He already regrets asking Liam to give him a haircut. His locks have gotten so much longer than he’s used to and he misses the way his hair was at the end of the summer. It hasn’t been cut since then and it gets in his way a lot more now, so he had to suck it up and ask one of the boys to do it for him.

He’d have asked Niall because he did Louis’, but he watched Louis fidget mercilessly while waiting forever for the prince to be satisfied with the finished product. The combination of an impatient Louis and an equally impatient Niall is nearly deadly. It did make for an interesting hour of whinges to pick up the pace and threats to shave the elf bald, though.

He had done an amazing job, but it took forever and Zayn doesn’t know if he could hide his own frustration for Niall’s need for perfection. Louis had a way of making it funny if a bit annoying. With Zayn’s famously sour moods, he would end up accidentally displacing the balance the five of them had only just reached after their trip to Devlin and that’s _not_ something he’s interested in doing.

Harry is off limits for several reasons but the main one is that Louis would get jealous and possibly kill him in his sleep. Harry was also banned from helping insulate their cloaks for not being able to cut _fabric_ straight. Zayn would rather let his hair grow out as long as the blacksmiths before letting him anywhere near his head.

The other boys might not have trusted Louis to give them a haircut, but Zayn has had many from him in the previous years and they all turned out just fine. For as silly and mischievous the other elf can be, he’s got a seriousness about him that inspires responsibility and accountability. He’s similar enough to Niall, though, that he needs to find perfection in his work.

Then there’s the possibility of _Harry_ killing him in his sleep just the same.

So he’d asked Liam, who has never cut anyone’s hair ever. His feelings aren’t for a lack of trust, because at this point, he’d be a fool if he said he doesn’t feel totally and wholly safe with the knight. He definitely trusts Liam with all his soul. Just maybe not his hair.

Zayn nods tensely and summons a mirroring charm to watch remorsefully as Liam tilts his head to the right to shave down one of the sides. In the background, he sees Harry reading a book in a chair by the stove with Louis sitting on the table across from him conjuring wards in and out of existence. Niall went on a walk through the forest about half an hour ago.

[Streetlights - Ludo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=70eLIFMt65Q&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=19&t=0s)

When he looks back into the mirror, he’s surprised that Liam has already worked halfway down the side of his head without nicking him once. He sits peacefully and just watches the man behind him work diligently. Liam’s concentration makes him smile a little and a shiver runs down the side of his neck with a particularly textured stroke of his blade. He relaxes a little better throughout the process, tipping his head the other way as Liam works there as well, the parts of his cut matching just right with the way they used to be.

He’s still a little nervous for the flop of hair he has going up top because he’d previously had it layered to sit perfectly to one side.

With careful hands, the knight picks up the incredibly long locks and the shears, slicing through raven strands easily. Several inches of hair go flying past his face to the floor and he swallows shakily as more and more comes off. He catches Liam in the mirror, moving to cut layers into his hair and nearly sighs out in relief.

Liam shakes away a clump of remaining hair in his hand and ruffles through the bits still attached to the faerie’s head, dispelling loose bits everywhere. Zayn leans forward to shake more out and sits up straight, staring directly into his reflection. He grins stupidly at himself, feeling blessed with a beautiful cut. He runs his fingers through it lovingly and rotates to assess it further.

Satisfied, he stands and grabs the knight’s face in his hands, kissing both of his cheeks before squishing them together a little harder. A small smile creeps onto Liam’s smooshed lips.

“Thank you. It’s perfect,” Zayn coos happily as he gives the knight a tight hug, laughing as he pulls back because a chunk of hair is stuck in the slowly growing stubble Liam has accumulated. He brushes it away gently with a satisfied smirk.

“You’re welcome.”

Zayn just barely suppresses the urge to kiss Liam. He’s not completely sure if it’d backfire spectacularly. Maybe Liam’s on the run and maybe he’s been banished from the court, maybe he treats commoners with respect and hasn’t said a single negative word about magic users or creatures otherwise frowned upon in Cercesia, but Liam Payne is still a human who grew up inside the Capitol. He learned prejudice and was steeped in it to cultivate hatred for people like Zayn. Whether or not he’s friendly now has no bearing on what might happen if he, an elvish fae, were to openly seek romance with a human, especially one with noble blood.

It doesn’t lessen the ache in his veins that whispers at him in annoyance. It tells him that Liam is kind and patient and would never regard him with disgust. If there were to be backlash, would it even come from the knight? Probably not. It’d have to be the reaction from outsiders.

Liam is different from when Zayn knew him as a member of the Court. Back then, he still wasn’t like everyone else around him, but he cared so deeply about what they thought. Their perception of him mattered so very much and it was apparent in the way he held himself in the presence of other nobles. When Zayn was approached by the man after the spellbook was found, he could see Performance Liam fall away neatly in relief.

There was no rueful search for Zayn’s unreachable approval because Zayn didn’t require anyone to impress him in order for him to accept them. He could tell that it was a refreshing surprise compared to the way he’d been treated for years. Still, when others joined them in conversation, Liam would subtly attempt to mute pieces of himself to gain their interest and he would step just that much further away from Zayn, the outsider. Mystical eyes and pointed ears, magic flowing in and around him as freely as rivers.

Zayn resented it with every inch of his soul. He understood it, of course, because if anyone had caught them making a leap from professional to friendly, the mage would have been killed in a heartbeat and Liam’s unknighting would have been inevitable even if he and Niall weren’t out playing peasant. That’s just the way things are in Horan’s Realm. It doesn’t keep Zayn from holding onto his tiny shred of wishful thinking that Liam wasn’t protecting only himself.

With no one to perform for, Liam thrives. It translates into a freedom so sweet that you can practically taste it in the air. Zayn knows it takes an unwavering amount of strength to let your own soul drown just to keep your body afloat, and he’s not interested in seeing the knight do that ever again because this man in front of him, newly reformed, feels like the man Liam was always meant to be.

It makes his heart beat uncomfortably fast sometimes, just knowing how _free_ Liam must feel these days. Even in the face of impending doom and living rougher than he’s used to, Zayn can see his shoulders are light. He says what he likes and hardly ever agrees just to make the other boys happy.

Being so enamoured with someone he’s unlikely to catch bears a specific type of pain. It makes him miss something he’s never had.

“Are you two finished, then?” Louis asks boredly with a wicked glint in his eyes, the wards he’s summoned flickering beautifully against the dull wood of their home.

Zayn sends him a glare with an invisible bolt of electricity. Louis doesn’t flinch but one of his wards disappears in a shimmer of baby blue and the elf looks at him with contempt before letting the rest of his spells fall gracelessly.

“We are,” Zayn smiles at Liam sweetly as he pulls away from him, his body already missing the warmth and safety. “Did you need something?”

“We should have an art session,” Louis says with a grin.

Liam immediately perks up while Zayn’s stomach does a funny loop. “Art session?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Harry press the open book flat against his chest and look over in curiosity. Zayn turns to Liam. “Not that sort of art session, babe. He means tattoos.”

The knight’s face lights up at that. “Oh! I love tattoos,” He feels his own smile creep in, but it looks like Liam’s features fall minutely as he continues on. “I’ve only got the one because of my knighthood, though.”

Louis looks absolutely delighted and motions for him to come closer. “Alright, Payno! What’s it look like?”

Sheepishly, Liam rolls up his sleeve as he walks over to the table directly next to Harry. Louis’ expression turns from giddy to regret, though he tries to hide it as best he can as he marvels at the ink in front of him. Zayn joins him by his side and peers around Liam’s body to see his outturned bicep.

The art itself is simple and beautifully done, the greyscale covering his whole arm in symmetric and precise curves. It’s a plain kite-shield with a little lion right in the middle reared up on his hind legs and pawing at something invisible in the air. A family crest.

The mage runs his fingers over the lines of ink and notes that magic wasn’t involved in the process and that it was done the traditional way for humans. The heat of tiny phantom scars glides ominously under his fingertips.

“They made you bleed for it.”

“Is there another way?” Liam jokes weakly.

The mage looks up at him seriously before bluntly saying, “Yes.”

He furrows his brows and begins to open his mouth with a silent question, but Zayn interrupts him and goes to a bag on the floor containing ink and parchment. He pulls out a few containers of ink and several horse-hair brushes and sets them down on the table.

“You can enchant the ink to seep into your skin and it stays there. That’s how Louis and I have done all of ours,” Zayn explains as he uncorks one of the ink bottles.

Harry nods and puts his closed book down on the table with a dog eared page. “I have a couple like that. You can even make them move after you seal them.”

Liam just stares at them with intrigue and waits patiently for the items on the table to be arranged in an organized line. Louis hops down off the table to take the seat across from Harry, watching Zayn distribute the brushes to the three of them. Zayn drags his chair towards the side of the table and motions for Liam to do the same so they can crowd in and watch each other.

The mage wipes at his fingers while casting a spell to remove hair from the affected areas. He dips a brush into the inkwell and draws a magic-empowering rune on his ring finger to match the others across his knuckles on his left hand.

“ _Et demergos excipiant,_ ” He whispers over his hand, warmth breath engulfing the wet score and drying it down. The skin and muscle there tingles gently. Zayn looks up and offers his hand out to Liam. “Feel it.”

Liam does so without hesitation and marvels softly at how the ink doesn’t wipe off onto his fingers. A small smile appears on his face. “That’s brilliant. I got the crest and it hurt so much and took so long because you can’t exactly keep going back and fix whatever mistakes were made. I bet you could get through three or four tattoos with magic by the time you can do one with a needle.”

Zayn draws another symbol on his pinkie to bring ease of passage when he realm-walks and repeats the incantation.

“You know what,” Louis says suggestively as he smoothly grabs one of the bottles. “We should tattoo each other.”

“We should,” Liam agrees easily while he reaches for his own supplies.

“I want Liam,” Zayn says absolutely before locking one of the knight’s ankles between his own. “What were you thinking?”

Liam’s mouth clamps shut and hesitation takes over his features. He looks at his left arm and traces over the bottom of his family crest with a thumb and contemplates something before looking back up at Zayn. “I want to cover it, but I don’t. I don’t want to think about…” He struggles for a moment for words. “What’s happened between my family and I still hurts, but I’d still drop everything for them if they wanted to make up.”

_They don’t deserve you_ , he thinks painfully but certainly doesn’t say.

“What do you think about a sleeve?” Zayn asks instead as he takes Liam’s arm and rotates it to visualize creations on the blank expanse, his other hand holding the wet brush carefully. “We can undo it with another spell if you don’t like it.”

“Like… my whole arm?” The mage nods and looks up. Liam’s sporting a weird and curious look on his face, but it has a hint of openness to it. “I’d like to try it, I think.”

“Do you have any ideas?”

The knight shakes his head with a shrug. “Just do whatever you like. If I’m not a fan, we can change it later, right?”

[Feel Good Inc. - The Gorillaz](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0cGECEfhb4g&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=20&t=0s)

Zayn bites his lip and thinks for a moment about which idea he wants to settle on. He shuffles in closer and grabs Liam’s left arm gently, curving his neck as he whispers the first enchantment and paints a stroke.

He can hear Lou huff under his breath that he guesses he and Harry are being left out and they should make their own art club. The mage rolls his eyes, knowing that the pairs were likely to happen this way no matter what. Louis might have actually had a tantrum if Liam or Zayn had even thought to make a move to touch his precious Harry, anyway.

“I, um. I’ve got an idea for you,” Liam says after a minute or so when he starts twisting his brush between his fingers.

Zayn takes his eyes off his work for just a split second to peer into Liam’s face. “Good,” He gestures to the side of his freshly shaven head and trails his finger around his left ear. “Just put it here.” He goes back to work diligently, but the silence spawned from his answer makes him look up again.

“Are you sure?” Liam asks in concern.

“Very sure.” The knight purses his lips in deliberation as he fidgets with the paintbrush still. “I’m serious. If it’s shit and I hate it, we can remove it, remember?”

Liam huffs out a laugh and dips his brush into the ink before cautiously bringing it towards the side of his head. Zayn goes back to outlining his own work, offering up his scalp in a surprisingly synergistic position. The liquid is cool against his skin and he suppresses a shudder that runs through his body from head to toe. Before long, he reaches a state that feels like he could be dreaming, his work lulling him into a calmness he hasn’t felt in months.

Undoubtedly, he works faster than everyone else in the room for the amount of art created but he’s still the last to finish. He’s just detailing his last rose petal when he finally realizes there’s been a heavy stare planted on him in replacement of ink being smoothed over his scalp.

He looks up as he puts his brush down and takes a deep breath in. Liam’s eyes are fixed on the side of his head. They go nervous as they slide towards his own gaze and Zayn smiles in an attempt to dislodge any anxiety he might have over the work he’s done.

“Well, let’s see it then,” He lets his grin take over his face fully and summons his mirror charm once more.

Over his left ear is a series of lines, some sharp and some curved. Ultimately, the symmetrical pattern makes an abstract flower that is only slightly blocked by the point of his ear. A single line of ink flows down from the pretty painting behind the piercings on his earlobe and it reaches the curve where his shoulder meets neck.

“We’ll probably have to clean up that drip,” Liam says, already standing to wet the washcloth Zayn was working with.

Zayn stops him by grabbing the fingers on his left hand, mindful of the cluster of roses that are still damp on the back of his knuckles and wrist. “No, I like it. Maybe some other time you can draw another flower right where the line ends,” He gives a reassuring smile and urges him to sit back down. “Why don’t you seal it?”

The mage leans in, ear offered up. “You just have to conjure up the energy and say the incantation.”

A shiver curves down his spine as Liam repeats the spell with an unsure tone before dabbing at where the line had rolled down his neck. He peers at Liam’s finger as he pulls away. It’s clean and the mage smiles at him softly. “Good!” He gestures to the knight’s arm before clasping his own hands between his knees. “What do you think of that? Is it too much?”

The crest on Liam’s bicep is nearly unrecognizable. The plain shield now has a border, making it look entirely more three dimensional. He’s added shading to the lion and on the upper and lower parts of the shield to create a neopolitan effect out of the preexisting greyscale ink. Under the shield, there’s a mass of swirls that look like ink dropped into water. It reminds him vaguely of ornate furniture that can be found at the castle and he supposes that’s where he picked up the idea. At the very top of the shield is a knight’s helmet and it’s positioned just so to make it look like a knight is holding up the kite in front of his body as a ribbon curls around the helmet elegantly.

Under the crest is mostly empty, though Zayn thinks he could fill it in with a few odds and ends some other time. Past the space is a bed of roses that flow down the front of Liam’s forearm all the way to just over his last knuckles. Liam clears his voice self consciously, knocking Zayn out of his own thoughts that race with more possibilities to fill the empty spaces.

“I really like it,” Liam says through a throat thick with emotion. “It feels like me, even though I’m not a knight anymore.”

“You’ve still got the makings of one. It doesn’t matter what any shitty king says.”

He receives a watery smile in return and they both take a moment before looking at Louis and Harry, who are in their own world as Louis speaks into the bend of Harry’s arm.

“You booze, you lose,” Liam reads out with an amused lilt to his voice.

“It rhymes,” Harry responds happily, arm still extended out between his knees.

_Of course_ , Zayn thinks to himself while he takes in the crude lettering and simple bottle. He looks to Louis to see if he can make out a new tattoo amongst the ones he’s already got. The other elf notices and raises his hand towards the back of his neck with a grin to show off a new piece just above his elbow. There are three red x’s in a noughts and crosses board just below his sparrow.

“You know there’s only one player there, right?” Zayn says with his eyebrows raised.

Louis cranes his neck a little to get a better look at his tattoo and realization dawns on him while Harry’s cheeks go a bit pink. Zayn can tell he’s fighting to hide his adoration when he looks up with a fond, bright smile. “That just means I always win.”

* * *

Liam

Zayn is complicated.

There’s days where Liam thinks he’s got him figured out, but then moments later everything is different. One second, he’s hanging off Liam and stroking his arm lightly in what he can only interpret as interest, then the next he’s squishing Harry’s cheeks and kissing his forehead. He admires the lack of patience for men demanding there be some sort of harsh boundary in order to be friends, but at the same time it confuses the hell out of him.

It’s obvious none of them are interested in the guidelines set for them. Harry has always been a soft soul and likes to be gentle and kind, something that sends red flags up to guards who observe the people for “undesirable traits.” Louis so closely mirrors Zayn.

He himself has never cared for and always questioned why he had to pretend to be rough with Niall when they were growing up. The prince himself often made mention of it to his father. Niall would always say it loudly. Sometimes the guards would laugh and it would make the King angry to be so blatantly questioned on the topic, which would in turn prompt private scolding. He always said he would take the emotional hits if it meant he got to speak his mind.

He’s never felt such a strong pull for another man like what he feels for the mage. Maybe a tiny tug in the past that he pushed down for the better, but out here? What does it matter? Harry and Louis have clearly fallen for one another, even if they can’t see it or won’t do anything about it, and Niall has expressed his disinterest in the gender of his partner. What does he have to lose?

[I Just Want You - Sara Bareilles](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IedyhSnmT24&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=21&t=0s)

Liam is already wanted by the Kingdom for things he hasn’t done; what more can they do to him? How much worse can they make it for him if he falls in love with someone he’s “not supposed to?”

He still doesn’t know what Zayn wants from him, if he wants anything at all. He genuinely can’t tell if it’s just the mage’s penchant for breaking down walls and unhealthy standards that have been expected of him or if it’s something else. He wouldn’t be so worried about it if he just knew what was going on between them.

What’s in Liam’s notebook is possibly what frightens him the most.

He’s been asked to show off his art. They all say its really, really good but he struggles to take that in properly when he’s terrified his fingers might slip and let loose dozens of pages with neat charcoal drawings of the sídhe on them. Zayn looking at something with full concentration on his face, Zayn laughing, Zayn explaining something, Zayn reciting phrases, Zayn laying on the bed and creating wards, Zayn making flowers bloom out of nothing. Zayn, Zayn, Zayn.

He knows his own feelings but it’s torture on him to not be sure of what’s going on. Him, the one who loves to organize and plan things and knows every detail well enough to pull the whole thing off himself. It rages on his insides every time Zayn brushes his cheek with the back of his knuckles or curls around him when they sleep (which, by the way, them sleeping together has started happening more and more. Niall’s only a little cross).

Maybe the problem is he’s worrying too much. If he stops worrying, the consequences of his infatuation disappear. Whatever goes on between the two of them doesn’t have to be a big deal, if it’s even a deal at all. Besides, why should he be so invested in putting some sort of quantifier on their relationship when the other two haven’t, either?

Shit.

Liam deflates where he sits on the uneven tree stump and runs his hands over the clean parts of the page in his lap. He’s gone and done it again.

Both he and Zayn decided they were bored of their daily activities and snuck off into the treeline behind the cabin. Zayn is wandering around the barren woods aimlessly and barely disturbing the snow under his feet as he goes. Only the midnight blue cloak he’s wearing leaves uneven lines in the ground as it passes behind him. The sídhe is singing anything and everything that comes to mind and makes a beautiful lullabye out of it with his soft, genuine voice. A lot of his time here has been spent staring up into the trees playing around with the notes pensively, and it’s mirrored in the sketch Liam has been absently working on.

It’s a profile of Zayn’s face with a dusting of snowflakes smudged into his hair. The trees in the background are devoid of their leaves and the faerie is comfortably looking up at something invisible, mouth slightly parted in wonder. The hood of his dark cloak takes a crushed shape on his back and strands of his long hair curl up slightly just above it.

A frown covers his mouth as he studies the picture. It’s beautiful, really, but it’ll just sit amongst all the other drawings he’s done of Zayn. He wonders if his enchantment with the mage is healthy.

“What’s wrong?” Zayn asks from where he’s suddenly come up in front of him. Liam starts and clutches the entire sketchbook to his chest but they both know that it’s too late for that. The other man is quiet for a moment before asking, “Is that me?”

“Yes,” Liam admits in defeat but tries to keep his tone relaxed. This doesn’t have to end embarrassingly. Zayn still doesn’t know about being Liam’s muse.

“Can I see?” He asks back. His voice is open and curious and Liam knows that if he says no, that would be that. The idea of being safe from exposure is nice, but a part of him _wants_ the faerie to see himself from Liam’s perspective. With consideration, he eventually nods and pulls the page up from where it rests on top of his sketchbook.

He watches as Zayn studies it intently. Violet and hazel eyes glide slowly over the charcoal and he traces over them with his own slender finger. Liam absently toys with the stray edges peeking out of the book in his lap and hopes his face doesn’t give anything away.

“You’re very talented, you know,” Zayn murmurs gently when offers the page back.

His heart is beating fast with the knowledge that Zayn thinks he has skill and that he likes the art he crafted and _isn’t_ mildly creeped out by it. Liam gives him a small smile and lifts his fingers (in which he can feel his heartbeat) to take the drawing back, not paying attention to how quickly he brings them down to his lap again. It’s too fast and he upsets the book that rests on his knees, tipping it into an explosion of loose parchment amongst the snow.

The pounding of his heart stops altogether and he silently wishes he was never born as he watches his world fall apart around him in visions of stale yellow and ash.

Liam doesn’t even look at Zayn, just stares into the naked trees above them and keeps his mouth shut. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the mage bending over to pick up all the papers. The binding of his sketchbook creaks open and the swish of the pages scratch against his eardrums, signaling to him that Zayn is carefully putting them back where they came from without a fuss. The covers are shut quietly and the buttons are snapped around the too-full contents and Zayn gently tugs at Liam’s chin with his free hand in an attempt to get the knight to look at him.

“I think we’ve been out here long enough. Let’s go back,” He hums out tenderly with a soft expression. He runs his fingers slightly through the overgrown chocolate fringe at the front of Liam’s head.

Liam gives him a faltering smile and stands, ready to lead the way so he doesn’t have to look at him, but Zayn just grabs at his wrist before linking their fingers together and dragging him back to a languid pace. The air smells earthy and there are glittery sparks that bounce playfully off the snow, though he’s not sure if its the light or something (someone) else entirely.

It doesn’t occur to him until much, much later that Zayn had bloomed a delicate stalk of lavender into his hair.

* * *

Harry

Snow rains down on him from above in powdery droves.

"Louis!" Harry admonishes lightly, "You're gonna scare away all the deer!" He watches as the elf gracefully climbs a little ways down the tree, no snow budging as he moves across lower branches, which only confirms his suspicion that he was dusted on purpose. He eventually makes it to a perch directly above Harry and a mischievous look slides onto his face. Harry can only groan as a bow drops at his feet and he barely catches Louis when the man lets himself fall.

"What if I hadn't caught you?" Harry asks as he puts him down.

"I knew you would," Louis winks before picking up the bow and turning his walk into a confident saunter, which makes Harry suppress a laugh. The elf suddenly skips ahead, throwing a "Keep up, Hazza!" over his thin shoulder.

He huffs out when the rogue takes off running in a random direction and sprints after him, both of their navy cloaks fluttering with the wind curling around them. Harry's legs might be longer, but Louis is built for swiftly darting between trees and rocks. He wouldn't put it past him if he ended up climbing one of the yews to hide.

Louis quickly eludes him and drops out of sight and Harry keeps running in the direction he thinks the elf went, but since those light feet don't bother leaving marks in the deep snow, he loses his sense of direction completely within a minute.

Harry stops and catches his breath for a moment, yelling out, "Louis?" A branch snaps behind him, and for a fraction of a second he's relieved but then he realises, no, that's not quite right. Louis is loud and bright and lively, sure, but he'd never miss an opportunity to sneak up on the blacksmith, never mind that there’s a distinct lack of familiar aura in his vicinity. It gives him a sour feeling in his gut.

Not facing whatever it is out of his sight, he forms a shield to encompass himself and starts running again. A random spell hits a tree to his right and it scares him so badly that he drops the field protecting him for just a second, but a second is long enough to land a hex square in his back.

He goes down face first, mouth full of snow. He can't move at all and his brain refuses to work for him; all he can tell is that his limbs aren't moving because they're unnaturally stiff and his head is swimming with visions that aren't his own. The last thing he coherently remembers thinking is that he hopes Louis can get away from whatever’s caught him.

* * *

Harry wakes up blind and confused. Something is over his eyes and his wrists are naked, barren of any overcoats and instead are tied down to whatever he's sitting on. A burning pain stings in his back and he registers that the space around him is occupied with a few other bodies, their puttering noises giving them away. Harry breathes deeply and tries to shrug off his blindfold with his shoulder, a hand lightly coming down next to his chin to stop him.

"Now, I don't think so," a voice comes to him, slimy and deep and a touch condescending. Harry huffs with an attempt to push the person back with another shield and lets out a frustrated noise when he can't pull in any energy to cast it with.

"You'll find you can't use any magic. We gave you a beautiful little potion that blocks you from collecting any mana. Wouldn’t want you to hurt one of us," The voice says all too casual and almost happily. There's some shuffling before his seat gets dragged by the backrest and forces him to recline. He can feel the legs bump over a threshold, jostling him harshly. "We have some questions we'd like to ask. Be as honest as possible, mind, because we won't go easy on you if you lie to us."

His chair comes to a stop and the mask over his eyes is yanked away, taking some of his grown-out curls with it. The room is dim and stuffy. There aren't any windows or any furnishings and it gives Harry the feeling they're in a basement. His instinct is to pull at his binds (which have rubbed his wrists raw already) and to scramble against the chair, trying to run even though his legs are trapped against his seat. His breath comes heavy and laboured, mostly from the panic rising in his chest.

"What do you want?" He grits out, resentment colouring his body language.

"What are you and your friends doing?" The man asks slowly. His hair is cropped and his just-as-dark eyes are empty. He seems familiar and Harry tries to place him, still tugging at the ropes around his sore wrists instead of answering. The man's expression sours even more at the silence, which prompts him to curl a rough hand into Harry's hair and pull harshly. He refuses to gratify the man with any outburst and expertly tamps down the pain.

With a breath of realization, Harry can't keep himself from blurting out lowly, "You're Lord Cowell,"

The man rolls his soulless eyes with an ugly scoff, "Of course I am,"

Harry's eyes dart around his settings again. There are two other humanoids by the door, both dressed in long, dark robes, one reptilia and the other covered in fur and her hood pulled over her ears. They've got wards surrounding them and potions hanging from the belts of their habits. Even if he didn't see any of that, he could sense the magic flowing through all three of them and his heart sinks into his stomach.

"I was told that the castle doesn't have a magic battalion," He breathes out.

"That's right," Lord Cowell smiles nastily, hot breath on Harry's nose. "The King did away with it after I had one of mine try to kill that prince of his. It’s a shame that it didn’t work- one less royal to deal with would have been easier if I’m to take control of the Kingdom."

Harry squeezes his eyes shut and huffs sharply. He's not liking where this is going at all, not one bit. It means something very, very bad for him, he's sure.

"Now, you know what happens next. You're smart after all, aren't you?" He laughs coldly. "You're wanted, alongside that wretched _sídhe_ and the royal, then the knight I've been quietly petitioning to get rid of for years to get him to stop snooping around my projects. And that elf," The man sneers, "I was trying to track that nobody down since the nasty faerie came into our Court. He lingered far too much around where we were operating and he was getting in the way. I was about to close in when someone broke into the treasure room and stole as many valuables as they could. I have no doubt it was his sticky little fingers, but it helped to distract from us, so he was at least a little bit useful."

The man shoves Harry's head forward and snaps his fingers right in front of his nose. A little flame appears and inches towards him. "Then he saw what we were doing and reported back to the King like he could do something about it, and all of a sudden, the prince and the sloppy mage disappeared and all five of you were posted around town like some sort of infamous members of a notorious gang," The man huffs out a freezing breath, "What a despicable rag-tag bunch you lot are.

“Our book is missing, too. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” The Lord asks with a raised brow. The blacksmith just stares at him. “Oh, of course not. I’m sure that pixie had nothing to do with it, either.”

Lord Cowell steps back, body forcibly casual. Harry can see the tense lines of his shoulder and it's terrifying to know that he could snap at any moment, sending the little ball of fire right into his face. "What I can't figure out is where you came from, or at least, I couldn't until just an hour ago," Harry swallows. "I thought 'Why is this blacksmith so important? Important enough to show up unannounced and inappropriately in our throne room? To go missing with members of our Court?' But then, my dearest _Hazza,_ I've just found you in such an intimate position with that little elf. I'd be careful, if I were you," The man turns and smiles dangerously. "I hear the King tosses the likes of you in the pit."

Harry doesn't move, refuses to give away any shock or disgust on his face. He won't bother correcting the man that Liam and Niall were the only reasons he came along in the first place, not Louis, and he breathes evenly, replying as calmly as he can, "I'm not telling you a _single thing_."

The man's face drops infinitesimally with contempt. "You will if you want to live."

Harry barks out a bitter laugh, blowing the flame away from his face smoothly, the conjuration budging surprisingly easy. "My life is not worth more than anyone else's. You want to use me for information? Too fucking bad!" Hysteria sets into his bones uncomfortably. A manic smile takes over his entire face, which only angers the nobleman more.

He pulls out a dagger from his robes and sets the blade down on the top of Harry's forearm. "I'll make you suffer," He threatens. Harry can feel the blood pooling around his arm where the knife digs in but can't find it in himself to care too much.

A loud crash sounds in the other room and a glowing humanoid with crackled skin bursts through the door in a panic. "The Court is coming- they think we're the wanted."

"How long?"

"Twenty minutes, maybe?" The humanoid answers.

Cowell grimaces and says "Pack it up, then," He turns back to Harry. "They're looking for you and your friends? Well, I guess we'll let them find you." With a swift turn, he snaps his fingers again and Harry feels his jaw open just enough to let the floating fire slip into his mouth. It doesn't burn the way he expected it to; it's not like the heat of a fire, not even close. It feels like boiling water dissolving his mouth.

Like acid, it slides carefully down his throat. He can't breathe it out or extinguish it and it blocks his airway so fully that he can't even let out an alarmed scream as it makes its way deeper into his body. After he's swallowed it, his stomach roils in protest, and he jerks around in the chair recklessly until he freezes at the feeling building in his throat. The binds around his waist digs into his hips as he leans over, throwing up pathetically on the ground at his feet. The bile is a fading orange glow and eventually fizzles out of existence.

His throat doesn't even hurt.

Relieved but still panicking, he notes that he’s quite alone now and hadn’t even realized that the room had cleared. Harry listens for any movement outside the door and hears nothing, figuring that everyone has left already.

[Iron Sky - Paolo Nutini](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DMiAZfeVohI&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=22&t=0s)

_Fuck. Okay._ Harry has to think quickly- he has about fifteen minutes before the guard find him in this depressing room, so he's got to work quickly if he wants to get away safely. The chair he's sat in creaks with every movement he makes and he's almost positive it's made of old, weathered wood, and will likely break with a few good bangs.

Bracing himself, he scoots towards the closest wall, the ugly screeching noises from the chair legs echoing off the dull stone of the room. He manoeuvers his back against the brick and kicks his legs a little to loosen the rope around his ankles, as they're tied less securely than the ones around his waist and wrists. It gives him leeway, so he stands and lets the chair’s legs hover uselessly in the air, gripping the armrests as best he can.

Holding his breath, he rears back into the wall and is met with a lot of resistance. His head spins with the pain shooting into the backs of his knees and spine. He grits his teeth and jumps back into the wall again twice as hard. The chair breaks, sending him tumbling backwards and nearly braining himself on the stone.

Quickly, he undoes all the ropes with his free hands, fumbling a little with his panic, and lunges for the door keeping him from the rest of the structure. When he bursts through into the next room, he sees a set of stairs immediately to his left. Next to them, on a hook, is his cloak. He snatches it and runs up the steps, swiveling his head when his view comes level with the ground floor to make sure no guards have made it there yet.

Sure that he's safe, he sprints the rest of the way up and stumbles out of the front door, breaking through the snow as fast as his legs will move him.

He doesn't know how long he runs for, just makes a mad dash, kicking up white powder in his wake. There’s a beginning of a blizzard starting that shakes the branches above him. He quickly realizes that it’s not just the wind whipping them around and that someone _has_ to be making all that noise, which only makes him move more hysterically.

Far away in a part of his brain that functions rationally, it's telling him that Louis is trying to catch him, but through the thick blanket of anxiety he can't understand it. It's not until the elf drops unsteadily right in front of him, catching him in his arms, that he slows down and breathes.

"Hey," Louis croons sweetly, "Hey, shh, shh..."

"We have to get home- they- the others- Louis! Louis, the boys!" Harry whispers as he tries to drag Louis in a random direction he thinks might lead them to the cabin. Louis stops him and tries to turn him another way. "They could be in danger, please..."

"I know, love. This way," Louis says softly, urging Harry again on a different path. It’s getting progressively colder and the snow falls down around them in a thick curtain.

Neither of them can keep running and are forced to slow down to a brisk walk to ebb the cramps that pop in their sides and legs. They carefully creep around the trees surrounding their little home and Louis listens hard for anything close to distress or out of the ordinary but comes up with nothing except for the usual sounds of the other three tinkering around the cabin.

They check once more to make sure no one else is around them before stalking their way across the back garden and opening the door. All three boys turn to look at them, relief taking over Harry’s senses at the sight of them unharmed and calm.

“What’s wrong?” Zayn immediately stands from their small indoor garden when he reads their stressed energies.

“Harry disappeared in the woods and I couldn’t find him,” Louis starts, still cautious.

Harry hurries to the front door and peers out one of the windows, looking for any sign of the coven or Court. He huffs out a breath before turning to the rest of the boys. “Someone was chasing after me and caught me. I woke up and Lord Cowell was there, threatening me. He said...” Harry swallows and turns his eyes to the floor. “He implied he was with the coven and they wanted to know what we were doing and where you guys were.”

Niall stands from his chair and sends him a petrified look. “ _Shit._ ”

“I didn’t say anything, but they knew where to find Louis and I earlier. I was with Lou literally only a minute before they knocked me out, and they’ll find us soon if they don’t already know where to look.” Harry peers out of the window again as he breathes out harshly, fogging up the glass.

“What happened? Did they let you go?” Zayn says, drawing closer.

He shakes his head and leans against the pane miserably. “Someone came in and told him that the Court was coming because they thought we were the ones hiding there and Cowell told his crew they had to leave, so they left me.”

Before Harry has any time to register what Zayn’s doing, he’s forcing a hand to the back of his neck, making him jump but ultimately keeping him in place. Only a second passes before Zayn jerks aways with a hiss, shaking his wrist and fingers out. Harry glances at him in confusion but gets the same look shot back at him tenfold. The mage is dumbfounded and just stands there with his mouth open.

“What?”

“They blocked your mana,” Zayn says simply.

“Yeah, he said that,” Harry responds.

“Then they gave you Feurety’s Spark,”

Harry shrugs. “A little ball of fire?”

Zayn huffs incredulously, still staring straight into Harry’s soul. “You should have been dead as soon as it hit your tongue.” The blacksmith leans back against the wall and feels his stomach give another wave of nausea, but Zayn shakes his head with a laugh. He steps into Harry’s space and is shaking him, Liam coming over to carefully pry him away. “You’re fine. _You’re fine._ Healthy as ever, really. There is no fucking way that you should be alive, but! You’re fucking _fine_ , Harry. How did you manage that?!”

Harry lets the information sink slowly into his skin and tries to come up with any reasonable explanation. Maybe it was cast wrong?

There’s a tense silence that seeps into the cracks around them. Zayn looks like he might make a run for it, but Liam is still holding him, staring at Harry with a nervous expression. Niall seems to be paling more and more by the second.

Louis is the one to get his head on straight. “What should we do, then?”

They all agree that they shouldn't go out in a group smaller than three, or at all, really. They have plans to at least try to move from the cabin but decide to wait until the heat in their area goes down. With Cowell accidentally tipping the guard off that they're in this small wooded section away from the main part of town, the Court will be scouring the surrounding area pretty hard, leaving them on house arrest until they calm down. They’ll likely even send out a patrol at dark that will prevent them from using the cover of nightfall.

All their things except for what they need for everyday use are shoved away in packs in case they need to make a fast getaway, which they expect to do because every sweep will bring the patrol closer and closer to their home. It will only be a matter of time before they come knocking at the front door.

* * *

Louis 

It happens one morning, Harry buried in the book on the bed with Louis while Niall, Zayn, and Liam play a dice game at the table. Zayn cheats and Liam lets him, which leads to a slightly frustrated Niall insisting that the mage is pulling the wool over their eyes somehow. The knight pretends to not know what he’s talking about.

Louis' ears pick up a slight rustle from the dirt path that leads to their cabin. It turns into snow crunching, meaning the culprits are only getting closer. He sits up cautiously and motions to the other boys to stay quiet. Standing up, he makes his way to the door to peek out the curtain over the window and, sure enough, a group of guards is making their way towards their home

"Get ready."

As quickly as they can, they slip into boots and cloaks, Harry magically putting out the fire in the stove and stowing the book carefully into his pack. Niall dons his quiver and the bow sheath he made himself months back for the recurve he’s been crafting. Louis shoulders both his and Harry's bags on top of his own, Zayn sliding on Liam's too.

The knight and the blacksmith are just lifting a crate full of supplies when a light knock comes to their door. It makes them pause but they quickly regain composure and carry the box towards where Zayn is holding the back door open. Niall is quickly stringing up his recurve bow, the hickory looking incredibly handsome in his swift hands. The guard knocking on the door begins talking through it, saying they just need to check for wanted criminals.

Louis picks up the smaller crate packed with him in mind and follows the other boys out while Niall covers him with a knocked arrow aimed at the front door. The patrol starts banging harder in an attempt to gain entry, eventually sending a splinter out of the jamb. The elf turns around just long enough to see Niall send an arrow through the glass in the wood and dodge out of the cabin. Zayn slams the door shut and urges them to run, phasing out of sight.

It's their plan, Louis has to remind himself. It was a joint decision to pack up two boxes of supplies consisting of all the things they need to finish the Chantella and some other odds and ends they think will help them settle into whatever new place they find, heading north towards the smaller settlements farther outside of the citadel. Louis would carry one while Liam and Harry got the bigger box and Niall and Zayn would be on the defensive.

They all said it would be best if Zayn could move to the other realm to give them lots of cover, but it still sends a pit spiraling into his stomach that Zayn is left alone for any amount of time. As he runs deeper into the trees as quick as he possibly can, he can't get the image out of his mind of Shali appearing on the common plane with her sharp nails against Zayn’s throat.

The _thwip_ of Niall shooting arrows behind them is loud in his ears. There really weren't that many guards on the dirt path, so he's sure most of them are gone or down by now. Zayn confirms his suspicions when he phases in next to him, already in a sprint as snow starts to fall around them silently.

They run for as long as they can but eventually need a break after fifteen minutes, Harry and Liam sweating and gasping for breath. They put their crates down and sit against a rock, Louis trying to regulate his breathing and hoping his side doesn't cramp up.

"Fuck, I hate this," Louis spits from under where his arm is draped over his eyes, back as flat as possible against the freezing stone. He'd think the wool inside the cloak would stifle it even a little bit, but he guesses not.

He hears Niall clear his throat uncomfortably and decides to peek out. Harry is to his left, knocking at a tree with a large branch in quick succession, denting the stump and splintering the wood in his hands. It looks like he's putting all his weight and effort into his swings, but no noise is coming out. Zayn is staring intently at the scene with his hands out, likely using his focus to muffle the would-be deafening sounds. The wind picks up around them and the snowflakes turn into little whips stinging at their faces.

Louis leans up and walks over, carefully coming from Harry's left. The sounds around him fade out as he gets closer. The blacksmith catches sight of him and stops, face angry and chest heaving when he drops the branch, noise returning. Louis can hear his breath come hard and heavy as tears brim in his emerald eyes.

"We'll be back in a few," he says to the rest of the group and leads Harry far enough away to be private but close enough to keep the other boys at ease. He sits them down on a fallen tree, wiping away ice and snow the best he can before pulling Harry to his chest and letting him cry in frustration as the snow ebbs back into something softer.

It makes sense, he thinks, since all the other boys have had their own snap by now. Louis is surprised it took Harry this long to reach his breaking point- how much was he pushing down and for how long? Harry talked Liam down from a screaming match with Zayn and pulled him outside to get him to work out his stress and sat with the faerie when he went quiet one night as depression crept in. He'd gotten all of them but Niall outside of the cabin for a few hours to let the archer decompress by himself in the warmth of their home instead of forcing him to leave yet again if he wanted to be alone. He can’t count the number of times he held Louis and whispered soft encouragements to him when doubt pulled at his confidence.

He'd really been an excellent mediator this whole time, even outside of serious matters.

"It's not fair," Harry squeaks out.

"It's not. I'm sorry you were dragged into this. Liam and Zayn and Niall- they all had the choice, but you were wanted as soon as Liam asked you to come with us to see the King," Louis whispers into his curls. "I'm sure I could get my mother to keep you until this is over, if you wanted."

"No, that's not- I don't want that," Harry huffs from Louis' chest. "I could have run that night when we came back to Liam’s and mine, but I didn't because I knew it was something that had to be done. Morally, how could I just allow something like this to happen? I couldn't, and I especially couldn't leave Liam and Niall to deal with this while I was off being a coward somewhere."

Louis tuts and plays with a curl. "You wouldn't be a coward. If I'm honest, we're idiots for trying to pull this off. It's not supposed to be our job, Harry."

"That's what makes it unfair- we shouldn't be doing this, but we are. And that cabin? It wasn't much, but it felt like a home and we probably can’t ever go back. Just having to run away from a place that never should have been ours in the first place..." he stops to lean back and wipe at his face. "And we're still going to be wanted even if we put The Old Ones back. We'll have to leave whatever lives we had behind. Liam and Niall don't care about Cercesia and you and Zayn have had each other all your lives and not really anyone else, but I did things. I had friends and my work and there were places I would go all the time and it's just... a lot."

"I get it," Louis says sweetly, though his heart feels like it’s about to be reduced to a splintery powder. "None of this is right and I don't really have words to make any of it better. It's all fucked up, but we're doing it."

"Yeah. It just sucks. I'm here for the long haul, though. There's no way I could turn my back on this." Harry gives him a watery smile. It's not quite convincing but Louis lets it go, tugging him back into his chest.

"I wish we didn't have to do this. I wish _you_ didn't have to do this," Louis whispers. They stay there for a few minutes before walking back to their group and continuing to head North in a brisk walk, trusting Zayn and Louis' ears to keep them from heading into things they don't want to be walking into.

* * *

Liam // [Maybe A Love Song - Nataly Dawn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QdnIKO_6A7A&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=23&t=0s)

Nightfall approaches much too quick. They’ve barely made any progress because of the crates, but there's no way they could have left any of the supplies behind. Liam fears that when spring breaks, The Old Ones will be at their full potential- there will never be enough time to start from scratch. They're already cutting it close as it is.

They've settled on a barely-mountain in a random cave Zayn swears he can't hear any bears, wolves, or dragons in. It's kind of dark and a bit cold with snow starting to flurry again, but he pulls a hearthstone out of Louis' crate and charges it the best he can. He assures that the rest of them are safe to sleep and that he'll take first watch. Zayn gives him a concerned look and Niall says that he always works too hard, that he'd spent the day carrying most of their things. He suggests that he, Harry, and Louis sleep while Zayn and himself take the first watch.

Liam smiles at him, feeling stress and mourning pull at the corners of his eyes, and shakes his head, walking to the mouth of the cave. He quietly leans against a boulder just outside to the left, arms crossed in protection from the cold. The moon is bright in the sky (despite all the snow that’s quickly falling in droves) and it illuminates more than he's used to in Cercesia. Even in the cabin, the lights from town were too prominent to let it shine the way it does now. It's unusual to see, definitely something he'd never thought about when he was living in the Capitol.

Zayn comes out of the cave and motions for him to budge up, navy cape swirling dejectedly around him. "It's too tense in there. Harry's crying again and Niall claimed the farthest corner away from him and Louis."

Liam nods as he scoots further to his left and turns back to watching the trees below them. He doesn't flinch like he used to when Zayn's bicep sits firmly against his. He's past giving a fuck about how people view him or what the faerie's intentions are, not bothering to blame the close contact on them both wanting to be warm. He's just too damn tired.

Everything feels like it’s closing in on him.

The amount of clarity and comfort he had from his life before has been ripped from his hands. His skin feels too big for him, like he’s trying to be more than he actually is. The responsibility of it all rattles the living hell out of him and Liam doesn’t know what to do with the excess emotion that has him feeling very, very scared. He’s not used to being so out of his depth when it comes to his obligations, just when he has to perform for someone else.

His entire soul aches with the need to be free. There’s a thirst for answer and purpose that bangs at his insides, begging to be let out so it can find what it desperately needs. Ever since he was young, he’s pushed it down over and over again until it became some small craving he could learn to ignore. It was something he inadvertently learned from his parents in their attempts to make him palatable to others.

He played perfect for their sake and it caused him to shrink with no regard for his safety or comfort. Outwardly, he was what they hoped for. On the inside, he was still the same Liam. He tried for such a long time to kill the person he really was and replace him with this picture-perfect drone who could be exactly what everyone else wanted. He coveted this immaculate version of himself and begged his brain to let him be that way. He just wanted to _like_ himself. He just wanted to be free.

He feels more adrift now than ever before. The more time he spends away from Cercesia, the more comfortable he feels with himself, and the boys are increasingly becoming a surrogate family that would like to keep him no matter who he is. The danger surrounding his found family terrifies him, and the fragile balance of their cause is threatening to teeter off the edge and totally destroy everything they have. If he loses the small bit of relief he’s been able to gather with them, he doesn’t know how he’ll recover. There’s never been a place Liam has been able to call home, and now he’s just run away from the closest thing he’s ever had.

At least there’s consolation in shared experience.

Liam almost violently wants to go back to a time when he knew what the hell he was doing because now, he’s too small for this whole wide world. He’s used to feeling smaller than other people, used to not connecting or understanding, but his purpose in life? That’s supposed to be familiar. Life, while alienating, made sense.

  1. do your job
  2. chase promotion
  3. get married to a beautiful woman
  4. have children
  5. wait for your kids to rinse and repeat
  6. die happy with your wife



The idea of it now makes him feel sick.

"Do you ever want to go back? To before all this happened?"

Zayn responds almost immediately. "No."

"No?" He asks curiously.

"Nope," Zayn says simply. "I fully intend on exposing the corruptness after this is over, assuming we get through it. This has got to be the last straw and if I have to kill the King myself, then I will. If we want any good to come of this, we have to move forward and make things change. The people knowing the King did nothing to prevent total destruction of our planet has to force them to stop being so comfortable with the way things are.” Zayn traces one of the roses he drew on the back of Liam’s hand two weeks ago. “I also don't really want to go back to working under him as a hostage," The mage stops his tracing for a moment and thinks. "Life was fun with Louis and I was good at living that way, but it didn't fit either of us," He shrugs nonchalantly, glancing up and piercing Liam with his lightly glimmering eyes. "There's not much for me to gain from revisiting my past."

"The world is on the verge of ending," Liam says blankly.

"Definitely. But I wouldn't be doing much better then than I am now," Zayn explains with a look at the stars.

With a sickening twist of recognition, Liam knows it’s true for himself, too. For such a long time, it had been an integral part of him, feeling fake and empty. He never wants to go back to being a shell and the need to be himself suddenly feels too important to let go of ever again. Liam has never expected anyone to be the stitching that holds him together because that’s not how loving yourself works, but hearing such soothing words come out of his mouth with no intention of meaning them that way? It hits him square in the chest just how much Zayn looks like golden thread.

"And I wouldn't trade away knowing you."

"I wouldn't trade you either," Liam admits quietly to the ground with a hint of annoyance. Liam doesn’t blame Zayn for the dim emotions swimming inside him like a cyclone, he’s just bitter at the idea that they might be so close to _something more_ while being just as close to platonicy. He feels Zayn's shoulder press harder into his and he looks up into comforting, glowing eyes.

_It’s strange_ , he thinks. _Who grows a freckle in their eye?_

Liam smiles minutely before Zayn leans in and presses his soft lips to his for a moment. He returns the kiss gently like it’s nothing.

It might as well be nothing because it's as natural as breathing, like they've been doing this forever. It feels suspiciously like summer even though it's the dead of winter, like feet dangling in the lake and smelling dagon berries blooming in their flowers, like coming home from a holiday.

For just a moment, he starts to overthink things. Self doubt grown from years of being told he’s not enough tries to sink into his skin but it slides away pathetically. Liam realises he’s got nothing to worry about because Zayn has never been and will never be like anyone who has told him his existence is a mistake. He’s being chosen, and he’s being chosen by the right person.

Relief floods his veins like lightning in a river

Zayn whispers comfortably, lips brushing against Liam’s in the limited space. "We’ll be okay."

Liam kisses him once more and brings his hand up to cradle Zayn’s jaw before resting their foreheads together. "I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a [visual gallery](https://andersconesgallery.tumblr.com/x) and it's best viewed on browser. the boy's photos are in chronological order and are parallel to the progress in the fic, top to bottom.
> 
> [celia's playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1h0AxitSUh67QgkTIxhOhp)  
> [my spotify ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0Pd4o93KLkbJXMTiJxNsMq) // [ youtube playlist ](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A) (songs linked in fic) 
> 
> shout out to my beta https://userkant.tumblr.com/ and artist celia https://louisprideflag.tumblr.com/
> 
> my tumblr: anderscones.co.vu


	7. Like Drinking A Memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 8.5k
> 
> there's a buzz beneath this skin that lays dormant but longs to break free.

Niall

Eventually, they have to go to the neighboring settlements to stock up on material supplies. They have enough food, as Louis and Zayn have been hunting and traveling the area for nuts and berries, but they didn't anticipate running out of bottles for potions or paper for scrolls or things to keep them warm outside of fires and hearthstones. 

The issue is they don't know who to send. Their faces are everywhere and have been for a long time- you'd think his father would have given up the search for him by now, much less keep him at wanted-status. Louis and Zayn are made by their ears (and the faerie's amethyst-ringed pupils), Harry in general draws too many eyes and can't seem to turn off his charm or amiability that attracts people to him. Niall is a prince, and the guards know Liam too well. 

It's difficult, but they need things and Niall refuses to let Zayn phase in and out to steal from these already-poor people, so he lets his overgrown hair flop around his face in the hopes that the usually-quaffed locks are enough to keep him unrecognizable. Even after all these months, he still feels like a stranger in a burgundy cloak instead of the familiar comfort of a navy one. He supposes that's the point. 

Niall keeps his head down the best he can while in the closest settlement and visits as few shops as possible. Liam predicts that they should be done by early April if they have any hope in their efforts providing results. The money in his pockets weighs heavier than they'd all expected. They'd budgeted a lot in preparation of living a rougher life, but between him, Zayn, and Louis, there had actually been quite a bit of gold. 

He's a practical person and prides himself on not being brash or frivolous, especially having been surrounded by money and security in excess for all his life, so he doesn't feel bad about entering the bar and asking for a small barrel of sunshine ale to take back with him. There's been too much stress and tension on top of the fact that the cave is worse to live in than the cabin because at least the cabin was warm and he could go for a walk if he needed to get away. Now, though, he's stuck with Harry in a perpetual bad mood and Louis trying to coax him out of it, to no avail, which in turn only makes Louis more stressed. 

Then there's the weird shift between Zayn and Liam that he hasn't brought up, because why would he when none of them have said anything about the other two since the day Harry had gone from oblivious to grosser-than-typical like whiplash. 

Point being, there's too much anxiety between all of them, and really, they all just need to chill the fuck out for a night. 

He stops short when he goes to put the gold pieces in the bar keep’s hand, eyes freezing on the face of the man before him. Hazel eyes stare right back at him and it feels like the pair of them are seeing ghosts. 

Niall unfreezes and lets the gold drop into the other man's palm. "How've you been, Bressie?" he asks with an uncertain look down at the bar in front of him. 

"Well, you disappeared and two days later my farm went up in flames after the King himself came to interrogate my family, asking if we knew who you and Liam were," Bressie sighs out bitterly, unlatching the tiny keg from the stack next to him, "Then your picture started cropping up everywhere as a constant reminder that I've lost everything. Can't escape ya." 

Niall looks up with a grimace and is interrupted when he tries to talk. "I'm alright, lad, just teasing. Don't look so terrified. What's going on, anyway? I saw Liam's picture next to yours and the posters say you're wanted for treason and petitioning against the King." 

[Safe In The Dark - Ludo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZSJtt4RG7jI&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=24&t=0s)

He sends a glance behind himself into the rest of the empty bar nervously before answering, not knowing what he could even say to make it sound only a little bit intense. 

"The Old Ones are back," Is where he decides to start, "But my father doesn't care and he's trying to hunt me down. After he unknighted Liam for us coming to see you, he basically kept me prisoner inside the castle. There were some things going on that Liam was in the way of happening, so when he left, The Old Ones broke loose. One of the elves we're with, Louis, he saw them being summoned. He was looking for help and he found Liam, so they came back to the castle, but my father..." He pauses and shakes his head in disgust. "He's a fucking idiot, Bressie, you know. His pride and lack of empathy..." He huffs petulantly and messes with the fringe of his hair anxiously where he leans against the counter. "Anyway, I couldn't stand to see it and left the castle to find Liam." 

Bressie stands for a minute, frozen in shock at the intense and plentiful information. "Are you serious?" 

Niall nods frantically. "Yes. Lord Cowell captured one of ours and tried to torture him. Turns out, he's a big hand in all of this. Fortunately, the guard intervened and nothing happened to our boy and he got away, but it was so close, Bressie." 

Niall sighs out a breath when his friend doesn't answer and let's his shoulders slump. "That's uh... That's what I've been doing since I left. My father told me you'd moved on so I didn't think to find you. I'm sorry." 

"Sounds like you've got a lot on your plate. I get it," He responds and mirrors Niall’s position. "Why did Cowell target your friend?" 

Niall frowns slightly. "We're trying to recage The Old Ones." 

His friend goes bug eyed and leans in closer, voice alarmed. "What the fuck, Niall? You learn about something like this and your response is to try to fix it? You’re really trying to banish them? By yourselves?" 

"Well, no one else is gonna do it!" He hisses back. 

"Mate, that's fucked. And your own father put a bounty on your head? He's gotta know what you're doing, right?" 

"Probably not. He probably thinks I'm just out running around for fun," Niall snorts bitterly. "If I was doing that, why would I even bother to stay in his shitty kingdom?" 

"I'm sorry," Bressie grimaces. "Do you at least think you can do it? It sounds so dangerous. What happens if you can’t do it?" 

"With the five of us, I think we can do it, yeah. The boys are good folk and talented as hell. I'm glad we've got them," Niall admits quietly. “If we fail, say goodbye to everything…” Bressie’s face falls horridly and Niall almost regrets telling him. It only takes a moment before his friend nods complacently. 

The archer glances around and pulls the barrel closer to him. "I have to get going, though. Don't wanna get caught and I don't want the boys to worry about where I'm at. Some of us have gone missing since we've known each other and it puts us on edge when we're away by ourselves for too long." 

"Will you come back?" Bressie asks, uncertainty in his posture. 

"To see you? I'll try, but after all of this, we're likely moving out of the Kingdom and starting new. I'll do what I can to come back every once in a while and write you, but for the time being, we're really trying to stay away from people," Niall responds quietly, mourning the fact that he can't even try to fix this friendship right now. "I'll see you later, yeah?" 

Bressie nods and Niall leaves with an even bigger pit in his stomach than when he came in, keg tucked under his arm safely. 

God, they've been fucked, haven't they? 

  


* * *

  


They all get stupid drunk. 

It's the best idea any of them have ever had. 

  


* * *

  


"I'm so tired of being cold," Louis complains. 

"It's because you're so tiny, Lou," Harry teases from the spot where he's laying on the freezing cave floor. "Come here," He slurs out as he holds his arms open. 

Louis wastes no time in clambering over, dimly glowing drink in hand. "'M not tiny," He complains after he's slouched perpendicularly against Harry's side, almost sloshing his drink over the rim. 

"Yes you are," Harry disagrees happily.

"Can you do that somewhere else?" Asks Zayn in a disgruntled tone as he leans against Liam in their little lopsided circle. "Like, literally anywhere else." 

"Where would you like us to go, Zaynie?" Louis mocks. "Do you want us to go out in the snow? And how come you and Lima can kiss right in front of us but I can't even flirt with my best friend? That's no fair!" 

Liam's cheeks go red but Zayn is unfazed. "You've replaced me as best friend?" 

"You _were_ doing a shit job, weren't you?" 

Niall laughs into his luminous potion bottle. He didn't bother grabbing proper cups when he went out, so they all settled for whatever wasn't being used. Louis had batted his baby blues and got him and Harry the real mugs, the little bastard. 

"Well-," Zayn starts haughtily, but Liam interrupts. 

"Boys, come on!" He giggles out. 

"Just some banter…" Louis pouts and sighs when Harry shoves his hand into his fluffy locks. 

"We all know you're boyfriends." 

Louis just smiles at the jab and shrugs. "You say that like you and Liam aren't." 

Niall watches Liam reach out and grab at Zayn's hand, who scoffs in offence at the other elf. "Liam and I are whatever we want to be." 

"But me and Lou can't?" Harry mumbles sleepily, basically passed out where he lays. 

Niall finally pipes up, topping off his bottle with the keg and reaching for Liam's empty bowl. "Well, I say you're all boyfriends, and that's that," He interjects with such an air of authority and finality he thinks that Louis might actually listen to him. He turns the knob again for Liam, sloshing the sparkling, glowing liquid over the side of the wood and commands, "Shut the fuck up and drink." 

  


* * *

  


Zayn

Drawing hasn’t come to him in months, but he needs _something_ to channel his creativity through.

Everything is still somewhat weirdly tense between all of them because of their move and it’s grating his skin down to the bone. Niall is so close to having a full on meltdown (honestly, it doesn’t surprise him in the least- he can feel the empath roll right off him) and Liam is adrift from trying to smooth everything over, which is downright impossible when Harry, the one person who actually forced them to talk things out or take a break, has finally lost his shit. 

Mostly, Zayn is just annoyed.

He’s trying to not be irritated with them, but it’s so fucking hard when Louis growls in his elvish tongue any time someone looks at Harry, or when Niall barely acknowledges any of them. Liam is usually his salvation, but the knight refuses to engage in any sort of complaining and it leaves him pent up with restless energy and harboured anger. 

He’s going to start resenting all of them soon and, with his current mood, he’s not sure he even cares.

But he knows future Zayn will feel the heavy wound, so he tries to take some deep breaths and tells himself to carry on.

Right now, he’s curled up outside of the cave with a conjured mirror and playing with the front of his fringe. He runs his bare fingers through it and twists a piece with a sigh. Laying his hand in his lap, he stares at his locks until they begin paling. The colour strips away from the black strands and starts turning an angry red that he thinks is too harsh for him, so he keeps dialing it down until they settle into a soft pink that he’s satisfied with.

He’s just turning his head this way and that in the flimsy reflection when he hears someone scuff their boots against the floor of the cave. He turns to see Niall emerging, eyes wide as he spots Zayn’s new hair.

“What do you think?” He asks with a shy smile.

“That’s pretty cool. How’d you do it?” Niall answers back.

“Magic.”

The archer stands there in his grey cloak, eyeing the mirror floating in front of him temptingly. “Can you do that on someone else?”

Zayn nods and turns his body to fully face him. “What were you thinking?”

Niall plays with the fastener holding his overcoat and then, out of habit, he pulls at the front of his long, dark locks. Zayn knows the quirk well and doesn’t think he’s ever seen them so long. The vision of this same boy gliding through the castle without a care while tugging at his would-be fringe to get it to stand up right with his usual style reminds him too much of how twisted things have gotten. The contrast sends a weird feeling through his stomach.

“I’ve always kind of wondered what it’d be like to be blonde.”

  


* * *

  


Liam // [Lost Boy - Ruth B.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QvVzFS4Vyf0&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=25&t=0s)

The first time Niall left their camp to visit the closest settlement by himself, Liam let it slide. The second time, he made Zayn follow him in the underrealm. This time, though, he’s not letting the prince out of his sight.

“C’mon, Ni. No one’s recognized you yet! Let me come with you.”

The look on his friend’s face is withering at best. “I don’t know, Liam. It doesn’t take much to put two and two together, especially since I’ve just got my old haircut back.”

Liam sighs and decides to plead gently. “It scares me and besides, Bressie is there. We’re better together and we’ll be safer.”

Niall rolls his eyes. “No we won’t.” Liam goes to insist again but he’s interrupted. “The other three would kill us both if I let you come with me.”

He just scoffs and leans his head back to glare into the sky, because Niall is right. If any of the other boys found out that Niall let him go into town with him, all hell would break loose and it very well could bring the tension back that they’re trying to get rid of.

“Fine,” He huffs and turns around, sitting at the mouth of the cave and pretending not to watch him stalk off past Louis. He doesn’t plan on letting Niall go alone, though. Not that Niall will know about it.

As soon as the now-blonde is out of sight, Liam stands and calls over to the elf that he’s going to take a break and walk around the forest for a while. He gets a sceptical look in return, probably because it’s still a little too dangerous to be doing something like that. Louis doesn’t say anything and just nods despite the expression on his face. It feels good to be so trusted but it also makes guilt crawl under his skin for betraying that trust.

He walks quickly through the trees and notes the deep footprints his friend left in the dimming light of the sun. They go north of their cave and head into the settlement there. Liam skirts on the outside of the place in an attempt to be casual and far away from the boy, looking at the trinkets on the little table next to him while watching Niall out of the corner of his eye.

The prince steps up to one of the only other stalls and efficiently sorts through all the items there. He picks out some herbs and spices and grabs a new waterskin for Harry that he adamantly refuses to admit he needs. Niall runs his fingers over a small pouch and gets the seller’s attention, possibly asking for the price of the mysterious bag.

The two of them talk for another few minutes and Niall pays for their things. The shopkeeper tries to give back some of the metal pieces but the prince just shakes his head with a bright smile, making the blonde locks against his forehead slip out of place. Liam keeps the fond moment to himself. Niall has always overpaid. At least all these dark moments haven’t beat that kindness out of him.

The knight looks down at the small, glass cow in his hands. He runs a finger over the spots and places it back where he found it, looking up again to see which way his friend is moving.

The relaxed state of his face is shattered when, instead of looking at Niall, he finds a guard staring him down.

Liam puts on a small smile and swallows. He knows his eyes have to be ridiculously wide right now but he hopes he has at least a semi-composed state about him as he runs his fingers through the long bit of hair he’s chosen to keep. “Hello.”

“You know I have to arrest you, right?” The guard asks in exasperation.

A snort comes from directly behind the sentinel. He turns around to reveal Niall standing there in disbelief. “Didn’t my father tell you? We’ve come home and he’s taken out the bounties for us. There’ll be no arresting today.”

The guard looks confused and glances between the two of them. Liam gives an encouraging, polite smile that he falls into easily from the memory of being a diplomat. The prince just looks offended. 

“No, Niall, he certainly didn’t-” He starts but is cut off harshly before he can finish.

“Are you forgetting your place? You’re some shitty peasant at the bottom of the food chain and I am your _prince_. Do not use my common name _ever_ , especially not to address me personally,” Niall snaps angrily, sass and power dripping from every word as he stands tall.

“Oh, yes, of course,” The sentry backtracks and soothes in a panic.

“Now what do you call me?” Niall leads. The guard starts to speak, unsure, and the prince guides him. “Sir. Sir Niall,” The guard repeats him and the archer nods back. “Good. Now, leave us before I have my father kill you. You know how he likes to torture people before hanging them, so I suggest you hurry along.”

The sentinel just nods and takes off in a random direction, almost running into another patron in the square. Niall looks back at Liam and just grabs his arm, hauling him off and away from the settlement.

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

“I was worried-” Liam starts but thinks better of it when his friend digs his fingers into his arm a little bit more.

“Do you think you’re the only one who gets worried?” Niall hisses angrily. They’re nearly at the tree line when he lets go of the knight. The whole mood of the conversation shifts and the prince reverts back into himself like he normally does whenever conflict is involved. It takes a lot of stress to get him to snap, and even then he takes just a minute to cool down.

“You’re right. I know I’m wrong, but sometimes it’s too much. I feel like I’m being skinned alive every time one of you goes off on your own to run an errand because I don’t know if you’ll make it back. I can do something if I’m there,” Liam explains anxiously as they stumble over the icy brush.

“I know that,” Niall admits quietly. “But sometimes you’re not the only thing protecting us.”

The knight heaves a tired sigh. “I’m sorry,” He says earnestly.

“We get scared for you, too, you know, when you go off alone. It’s terrifying. It’s not just you who cares about us.”

That admission nearly brings him to a grinding halt. They’re all friends. Liam doesn’t have just Niall in his life anymore. There’s five of them together as this tiny, little mismatched family and it’s not one sided. 

He never experienced callousness from Niall in their time growing up, but he expected it from nearly everyone else. His parents ignored him mostly and demanded perfection from him, which he was easily able to serve up, but they never showed affection or pride. It was certainly isolating. They weren’t hateful towards him the way Niall’s father seems to be, but they were far, far away.

As it turned out, so were most of the other people who roamed the castle. Many of the other boys would be insensitive towards him. It wasn’t exactly overt, but Liam was a trusting person and believed them almost every time they told him something shocking or discomforting. Being who he is, of course he would try to help or be kind to whoever was in trouble. Sometimes he would be told a girl liked him only to be responded to by said girl like any of the other noble boys would: with distaste and contempt.

It led him to several awkward conversations or him expressing concern simply to be laughed at for taking them seriously. He just wanted to be a gentle person and he felt like he was being punished for it. They called him weird and uptight when they thought he couldn’t hear and refused to be seen with him unless they were taking the piss. 

That’s the problem with the rich. They all gossip so much that practically everyone knows everything. It wasn’t exactly a secret that his peers were cruel even if they meant for it to be.

His only solace was Niall and his threats coming out of crooked teeth. Nobody wanted to make another noble (especially such a charming one) hate them, so everything would stop as soon as he walked in the room. Often times, his friend was never savage but exuded such disappointment and shame that it felt like a scolding from a parent. 

There was this humble and easily embarrassed boy fighting for Liam’s honour almost every day and it made him feel a little less wrong for being just as soft himself. Eventually all the hurtful antics stopped, but he was still lonely. Niall is one hell of a friend, probably his best one, but Liam hasn’t had many people aside from him and Bressie.

Now, he has three more who embrace him as he is and radiate that same kind, loving energy that the archer does. It never occurred to him that he might be more important to them than just another hand to help them.

“Right,” Liam murmurs before clearing his throat of emotion. “Let’s not tell them this happened.”

“Of course. It’s my ass on the line, too,” Niall says with a soft smile. It’s an attempt at diffusing the situation and Liam gladly takes it.

The walk back feels just a little bit warmer.

  


* * *

  


Harry // [Air Conditioned Love - Ludo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=olZAUSPgCKA&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=26&t=0s)

They've been making potions nonstop. Since the loss of their makeshift training grounds, they're going tense with the need to be productive, not that they need to train more, anyway. They're as good as they're going to get, which is enough. 

The solution was to start assembling potions and memorize the rest of the important bits in the book, Louis and Zayn bouncing incantations for the Chantella off of one another. It only takes a few days for them to have it completely memorized, but they both mimic back to Harry every so often, just to be sure. It gets a little tiring and the fumes from their makeshift cauldrons often make them dizzy, but it keeps them busy for the time being in this game made for waiting. 

Winter moves much slower than they'd like, but it still goes. They had minute celebrations for Zayn and Harry's birthdays, Niall and Liam grumbling because they'd missed Louis’, though he shrugs it off because with seven siblings, birthdays get sort of gobbled up. They don't do much, but they manage a cake for Zayn from the ingredients they can sneak from a nearby farm, and Louis makes sure to ask Fizzy for some of her wine for Harry. 

It's mostly fine until one day Harry stops reading out ingredients for a potion and voices a horrifying thought to the group. 

"What if they aren't in the forest anymore?" 

Liam shakes his head immediately. "They need to stay close to where they were summoned from to gain their strength. If they left, they'd still be just as weak as they were when they first surfaced." 

The rest of them sigh in relief but Louis starts up again after a moment. "Is there anything else we haven't thought of?" 

Harry bites his lip and thinks hard, though he's not sure what he'd randomly come up with. They all shake their heads slowly, but they know where he's trying to go with it. 

"We need someone to tail the coven," He says simply. His little hands fidget in his lap. 

"That's dangerous," Harry says with a head shake. "We shouldn't risk it." 

Louis huffs. "Wouldn't it be more dangerous to walk into this blinder than we already are? They were trailing us long enough to get you and I by ourselves and they know more than they should- there was an advantage to that for them, though thank the Gods they weren't able to get anything from you," Zayn looks unhappy with the whole line of thought and even Louis seems reluctant. "It'd be _so_ helpful and we wouldn't have to worry about surprises or being a step behind." 

"Until whoever is spying goes missing," Harry glares. He knows Louis and he knows that the elf fully intends to volunteer for the job. 

"We just need to know where Cowell goes when he plans all his moves. He's already afraid of the Court finding out he's planning this, so he’s taken measures to be sure they don’t find him, meaning we wouldn’t have to worry either. We'd only have to watch out for the rest of the coven. I'm skilled for-," 

"No, Lou," Harry spits adamantly. "It's too dangerous." 

Zayn speaks, breaking the intense stare down they have going on with one another. "Louis and I are professionals in being sneaks. We can trail Cowell without being caught." Liam doesn't look any happier about the prospect than Zayn does, but says nothing. "Louis is right, Harry. You know he is." 

He can feel his face contort into something ugly and incredulous as he practically throws Fizzy’s recipe book to the ground. He stands and heads straight for the mouth of the cave, ignoring the way Zayn mutters something about how Louis is an adult and can make his own decisions. 

It doesn't take long for Louis to find him huddled between a pine and a boulder. He raises himself to sit fully on top of the rock, elbows resting on his bowed knees. "It will help." 

Harry scowls and glares at his hair that whips around his face. He pouts for a few minutes, stewing in silence with his best friend. "I don't like it," He admits eventually. 

Louis just huffs a bitter laugh. "Trust me, Harry. I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't think we needed to do it," He sighs and kicks out one of his legs to poke at the blacksmith. "Love, really. Sometimes we have to do things we don't like and take risks to stay safe." 

"Sounds counterproductive." 

"You're being difficult." 

Harry spins around at that, anger flooding his usually-kind face. " _Louis_ ," He spits sharply, "You're risking your fucking life and you want me to just accept that. _You could die!_ Why wouldn't I be difficult about it? In what _fucking_ world would I ever be okay with that?" 

Louis' face crumbles, not bothering to hide it from him as his shoulders slump from trying to hold his stress up. "You know how it is. None of this is okay, Harry. I could say 'this is really fucked up' over and over until the sun dies out, just repeat myself like I have been, but I won't because I think you're tired of hearing that," He looks into the unusually still sky and continues with the thought that it feels like they’re in the eye of a storm. "Harry, honestly. I'm not asking you to be okay with me risking my life, because that's not reasonable, but we need this. Hazza, you have to understand." 

The blacksmith drops his bristles and relents, tears in his eyes. "You're my best friend, you know? I'm not sure I could handle losing you." 

"It sounded like Zayn wanted to come with me, so I wouldn't worry too much. We're really good with each other," Louis says softly. "You trust Zayn to watch my back, yeah? I know Liam would say he trusts me." 

Harry shakes his head in an attempt to dispel the tears. "Of course I trust him, Lou. Shit happens, though, and we can't be sure either of you will come out safe." 

"So, we deal with it. Harry you can't ask me to not do what I can; I'll only disappoint you." 

Harry's stomach churns at that thought. "You could never do anything to disappoint me.” He stops and whispers to himself, not really caring if Louis hears him. “We're both too far gone for that." 

Louis doesn't ask what that means. They don't talk about it. 

"At least don't be angry with me or take it out on them. We're only trying to make things easier." 

Harry nods and Louis jumps down from the stone, taking his hand and standing with him for a while, staring at the forest below them. They eventually go back inside, but it makes Harry's stomach clench because they start planning where to start looking for Lord Cowell. Things are starting to feel realer than they ever have.

  


* * *

  


Louis 

Fortunately, Cowell is easy to track. The issue is the location. He's working out of Tredity forest in a cabin that they must have built in Louis’ absence, because he's never seen it there before. It's innocuous on the outside but they know it's just a front for the evil that resides within. It's not as intricate as they'd hoped, nowhere they can sneak Louis into without anyone noticing, and it sort of puts a crack in their plans. In the end, they decide to place Louis in a tree outside as backup and wait for Zayn resurface from the other realm as he crawls around in the coven’s presence undetected. 

He hates it. Like, really hates it. 

Over the last two years, he's tried to forget how they were separated. Having spent almost the entirety of their childhood together- inseparable as they come - Zayn feels like a piece of him. 

Louis remembers walking hand and hand through Devlin with his mother one morning, pregnant as can be with Fizzy, when he heard a distant sniffle across the road. He'd nearly dragged her over to the alley where it came from to peer around the barrels there. They found a young boy, only a little smaller than Louis, cowering away from them and attempting to phase out of their plane but only managing to flicker in a pale mist. Louis, undeterred, got closer even though Jay was trying to pry him away from the scene. 

He can hear the boy's stomach gurgling in hunger and feels little bursts of wind push at his front, likely from the other's outstretched hands. The elf only shuffles forward and grasps at a dirty palm, rubbing some of the mud smears away from the tanned skin before looking into his bright, glowing eyes. 

"Do you like cheese?" He asks the shivering boy. 

Slowly, the wind stops and he nods, uncertain. 

Louis turns around to his mother, still holding the boy's hand in his. "Mum, can I have a bit of cheese?" He asks, motioning to the groceries they’d just bought. "He's dying." 

Jay comes steps nearer to them and Louis can see the apprehension in her face, but she shuffles in the bag for a small cloth and the parcel anyway, "Hello, love. Where are you parents?" She asks, breaking off a corner from the large block. 

"I don't know." 

Louis raises an eyebrow as he tries to hand him the food. "You don't know? How come?" 

"My dad's supposed to stay in the overrealm and my mum and sisters are gone," He says, eyeing the food suspiciously. "I can't... I can't get into the overrealm," There are tears in his eyes and he takes a deep breath to dispel the sogginess in his lungs. 

"You don't have any other family?" Jay asks, sending a concerned look to her son. Louis has heard of pixies and faeries and sídhe. People talk, and it's always in disgust, though he doesn't understand why they would think someone as beautiful as this frightened boy is repulsive. Louis doesn't understand why they say the same about himself, either. 

"I don't." 

[Unmade - Sleeping At Last](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=idsNyOvG5Ws&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=27&t=0s)

They ended up taking him home and housing him after tonnes of coaxing and assuring him that they didn't follow fae rules of gifts and favours and expected nothing in return from him. Zayn stayed with them until his magic was strong enough to phase through the realms. 

It was a total accident, the Maliks all being separated. Someone had called for Yaser to be hunted out of a neighboring town for being full-blood fae. Trisha is an elf and it only made things more violent, leading to their entire household being torn apart. She was able to get the girls and Zayn out, but he got lost while running through the dark and ended up in Devlin, starving and alone.

He'd found his family close to the beginning. Yaser was stuck in the otherworld, as coming to the commonplane was a suicide trip and their people shunned other sídhe who crossed over while commonfolk upheld their prejudices. 

He and his mother and sisters could meet up every once in a while, either realm withstanding, but it was always too dangerous to stay on the commonplane together for too long, lest they be hunted for their fae blood and take their elvish mother with them. Trisha and Jay had come to an agreement that he was safer with a mostly-human family, as it was easy enough to hide Louis’ non-human traits and make them look passable for a full-blood household.

They’d all decided it was best to stay separated, in the long run.

Of course, Zayn would always visit his father’s homeland. He was welcome even if he was only part sídhe, but being only half sídhe, he was never able to stay long enough to make it possible to live there. Eventually, time and nature took its toll and Yaser with them. Zayn said the funeral was beautiful and surrounded by those who loved him- everything his father deserved. 

Louis knows that he and Jay and his siblings don't fill whatever emptiness his parents and sisters leave. They aren't a replacement for the things that were taken away from Zayn. To think that they are is arrogant, but Louis knows that they serve a great purpose in his life and that they're just as much family as the one he rarely sees. 

When they'd left Devlin to make things easier for Jay and Dan, they were on top of the world. Maybe it was a little dirty and a little miserable at times, but they were nearly unstoppable when they were hustling or pick pocketing. They'd gotten into trouble sometimes and had to fight their way out of it, but it was always fun and left them with great rewards. Nothing they couldn't handle. 

But then Shali came along. They weren't ready for her, especially since the King had nearly outlawed fae of any kind, playing upon the prejudices the people already held. Remembering the way Zayn shivered with a look over his shoulder is enough to make Louis feel sick years later. 

He'd never seen his friend so terrified, steering Louis into an empty alleyway before he himself sprinted across the courtyard, being stopped dead in his tracks by someone phasing right in front of him. He flickered away for only a moment before the glowing girl dissipated, too, presumably following him into the otherrealm. They came back up near the center, jostling people away in their disgust and fear. Not a second later, the guard poured into the yard, approaching where Zayn and the girl stood, her strong arms wrapped under Zayn's and her sharp, sharp nails pressed against his throat, keeping him in place. 

He remembers watching on in horror, wondering if the glittering girl would slit his throat or, if she had more powerful magic than even Zayn, would she consider flooding his lungs from the inside or boiling his blood. He'd wondered if Zayn could keep her from doing it. 

Instead, Zayn only looked to Louis and shook his head in a short movement that could have been mistaken for an attempt to escape, and the woman snapped something in the sídhe's ear. The guards moved in closer and forced a potion into his mouth. It sloshed down his front and ran down the sides of his jaw then dragged him away from where they came, the woman still wrapped around him from behind. 

He'd had nightmares for months about that day, and they only got worse as time went on. He had no idea where they took him or if he could even get him back. 

But one day when he was in town, he saw Zayn walk through that very same square, seemingly complacent with the members of Court he was surrounded by, and then the place started to haunt him for different reasons. 

Anxiety flares in his chest every time he has to leave Zayn by himself because of it, even though it wasn't a matter of not having his back. It was out of Louis' control the moment his best friend shoved him into an alley. 

Still, that day echoes in his mind now, sitting in this tree only a little ways away from the cabin he’s watching while Zayn putters around on a separate plane, out of his sight. He's terrified that somehow Shali will appear and snatch him up and take him away. But this time the stakes are higher, more people to mourn his absence. More likely Zayn will suffer real consequences. 

He can hear some stuff going on inside from his perch. Him being on the outside isn’t a total loss, all things considered. It’s just not ideal for them. His body goes numb over time and his fingers itch with the need to get up and move around, the silence and inactivity slowly suffocating him. Just when he thinks he may jump down to peek through a window, the door opens and a slew of members pile out, Cowell included. They're all dressed in their dark robes and Louis wonders if they could be even more cliché. 

Not five seconds later, Zayn materializes next to him. 

"He's just as repulsive as I remember." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah. But they seem to be projecting for June, so we're a little ahead of them. I can probably realm walk back in and tamper with their ingredients and ruin a potion or two and make it worse. They've got some guards stationed inside at all times, so I’m not sure how much I can get away with. There’s even a schedule inside for who comes and goes, so we don't have to try to guess when Cowell will be here. We’ll know how many people will work on any given day, too," Zayn says, situating himself better on the branch. 

“Why is he even doing all of this?” Louis asks in exasperation. “What’s the point?”

“Power, I guess. I had to work with him sometimes and he was particularly terrible. He was always sucking up to the King and making sure he knew his allegiance or something, but he’d turn right around and moan about how sloppy he was at engaging with the people,” Zayn rolls his eyes at the thought. 

“Cowell would say the King didn’t know how to win the favour of commonfolk who didn’t want to be blatantly prejudiced. With someone like the man in power now, it’s too easy to point out how morally corrupt he is and Cowell says he has to be ambiguous with it if he wants more people to support him. A lot of the Court is like that.”

Louis stares down at the ugly cabin he’s come to hate looking at. It doesn’t belong here. “Not Niall and Liam, though.”

“No, not Niall and Liam. Cowell actually hated both of them, honestly,” The mage says candidly. “He wasn’t exactly quiet about how open Niall is- only when he was around the King. Nobody was ever to speak ill of Niall and Simon Cowell is good at pretending, even better at manipulation. He’s very cold,” Zayn looks uncomfortable and angry, contempt covering his handsome face. It reminds him of Liam. “Prince Greg, though? Anybody could say what they pleased about him and it still makes me sick to think about. It’s no surprise, either, that he doesn’t like Liam. He and Niall are very similar, but I’m sure his recent increase in trying to get Liam fired is because of him being the person who was actively pursuing the book’s origin. Did you know Simon was one of the people working on attempting the magic?”

Louis raises his eyebrows and lets one of his legs hang over the side of their branch. “Was he really?”

“Yeah,” Zayn answers with his own eyebrow raise. “Liam was looking for people who could perform magic well and the King said to make sure it was just people from the Court to avoid treason or whatever,” He huffs out a bitter laugh. “Look how that turned out. He was writing out pieces of the spells to reverse the cage.” 

The anger dissipates quickly as Zayn picks at a piece of bark distractedly. His focus increases tenfold and the silence nearly drowns them.

Louis narrows his eyes in concern. "What's wrong?" 

"Shali is working with them," He replies reluctantly. 

"She’s _what_?!" 

"She's on the work list and Cowell mentioned her once or twice while he was in there. Apparently, they're the masterminds and will try to overthrow the Court as soon as The Old Ones have their whole power." 

Louis shakes his head and stands quickly. "We have to leave," 

"No," Zayn shoots back, "We know when she's supposed to be here and I can feel her when she's around." 

"If you can feel her, she can feel you too!" 

"Then I'll hide," Zayn hisses back. "Louis, I get that you're scared, but we were caught off guard last time. Even if she comes through on a day she's not supposed to, I _will_ be ready for her. There are so many more places for me to hide. She was practically standing on top of us before I realized she was headed straight for me with red in her eyes, and that won't happen this time," He pauses before continuing. "I'm going back down there and I’ll be back in a few minutes, then we can go." 

"No-," 

"Louis," Zayn practically pulsates with irritation, "You wouldn't let the love of your life talk _you_ out of this- what makes you think I'm any less stubborn?" 

That gets him to close his mouth with an incredulous snap. "He's not-," 

"Fuck, Louis!" The mage spits, a deep vibration reverberating through his chest and rustling the pine needles around them. "Can you just stop pretending for _two_ minutes? The pair of you are so insufferable and I've never seen you feel more at home with anyone except for your actual family! It's like you and Harry were made for each other, you fit so well. Obviously, you're a whole person by yourself, but when I see the two of you in tune like that, it's like you complete each other in a way people look for all their lives and sometimes still never find." 

Tears sting in Louis' eyes and he presses his lips together in defiance. 

"You're infatuated! You're in love! You've found your fucking soulmate!" 

Louis can't manage any words so he just shakes his head and sits again. 

The faerie lets out a strangled sigh, pressing his palms into his eyelids to hide the growth of the rings around his irises. "Why won't you let yourself be happy, Louis?" 

"Don't you realize what we're dealing with?" He manages with a watery laugh. It feels fragile in his throat. 

"Of course I do, which is why admitting how you feel and letting yourself make that final step will be so much better for your heart," Zayn nearly pleads as he leans forward to grasp at his best friend's hands. 

He feels the tears spill over and sniffs a little. "It's selfish. I've already taken so much from Harry. I can't take away his decision to leave, too." 

"He can decide things for himself. You don’t control him," 

Louis shrugs. "I know I don’t," He looks at the graceful, ink-covered hands rubbing at his knuckles and frowns. "But I know he'd sacrifice his own happiness for mine," Zayn stays quiet for a moment while Louis thinks of what he wants to say. "We shouldn't have met this way, you know? There's too many things forcing us to stay together on top of our souls being fused,” Louis stops with a halfhearted huff. “Thanks for telling me, by the way." He’s not mad, not really. Just very tired.

“I figured he’d tell you about it eventually,” He shrugs back. “Wasn’t really my place.”

Louis extracts his hands to rub at his own eyes in frustration. “It wouldn’t even matter if I felt something for him because if he feels anything for me, how can I trust it’s real? He’s literally got a piece of me inside of him influencing the way he thinks about things!”

Zayn takes his hands again and pins him with a serious look.

“Do you not remember the way you two were before he came and got you? If you think you weren’t already well on your way to falling in love with each other, you’re fucking obtuse,” He’s getting increasingly more passionate about what he’s saying and it’s getting harder for Louis to find it in himself to protest. “So what if he’s got part of your soul? It’s who he is now, and who he is _now_ is not much different to who he was _then_. He’s still Harry and you’re still Louis and you two are perfect for each other, so there’s no reason for you to be so against the idea of you being a couple just because something artificial might bring you closer together.”

Louis gives it one last shot. “What if we were never meant to be like this, though? What if it’s an accident? A mistake?”

Zayn huffs at that and looks out towards the cabin. "You can't mistake that sort of connection. It's like the Gods hand crafted it, glittering and golden and stronger than anything else in existence." 

That finally breaks him, so he does what he always does when he wants to deflect.

"Is that what you do in your spare time, then?" Louis jokes weakly. "Write poetry about Harry and me?" 

His friend doesn't look impressed but drops the subject, Louis' hands going with it. "I'm going to the cabin again to ruin their potions. I'll be back." Before he can protest, Zayn disappears in a pink shimmer, leaving Louis to stew in his own self-loathing. 

  


* * *

  


They don't learn much in the coming weeks as February turns to March; they just keep tabs on the progress of the coven's spells and the comings and goings of Lord Cowell. There were talks in passing about how the Court would never find them and their work because of the sole focus on the boys' wanted status eating up all their resources and time. It kind of baffles Louis how much Niall's father wants them. For what? Because Niall is a prince? He doesn't care too much about it becoming a scandal, obviously, having posted his full name and likeness all over Horan’s Realm alongside two elves (one of which is also a faerie) and a dishonoured knight. 

Niall says it has something to do with pride. He'd been dead to his father for some time even before operating so closely with a commoner and at this point would rather him be murdered or jailed than living his life freely, cohorting with _filth_ , as his father would say. 

Niall comments that his mother used to be tinted with the mindset too, though not so much. If she were still alive, she never would have let it get this far. She might have talked some sense into him and this mad search would have been over months ago, or his father would have arrested her too. He's not quite sure. Either way, the archer is convinced it has to do with his own defiance making his father look without control to the rest of the Court for allowing something so shameful to happen with his prized heir to the throne. 

That's something that makes Liam scowl every time without fail, Louis finds. The discounting of Prince Greg. 

Commoners never heard much about the royal family other than the decadent parties and the lovely little noble with blue eyes and beauty marks who could charm the pants off of anyone in the room if he wanted, but instead stayed by the side of some young lad whose royal clothes didn't quite sit right. Nobody wants to talk about that boy, whose face was friendly but gaze slightly empty and who the King constantly talked over and refused to acknowledge unless the child with the dazzling smile mentioned him first. 

According to Liam, Prince Greg isn't fit to rule Horan’s Realm, or so the King says. Greg has many bad days where he isn't well enough to interact with people, but both Niall and Liam are convinced that if their father had treated him properly and listened to the things he said about his own feelings and thoughts and had gotten him the remedies that he needed, he would have been just fine to be king. 

Their father never let him go to lessons with Niall and allowed Prince Greg's condition to worsen to the point that he may never be the kind-faced boy he once was. Maybe it was untrue at one point that Niall's older brother was too unwell to hold the throne, but through neglect and lack of support, it's now a reality. 

Louis has to wonder how cruel a man can be before his soul wilts with the rottenness of it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a [visual gallery](https://andersconesgallery.tumblr.com/x) and it's best viewed on browser. the boy's photos are in chronological order and are parallel to the progress in the fic, top to bottom.
> 
> [celia's playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1h0AxitSUh67QgkTIxhOhp)  
> [my spotify ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0Pd4o93KLkbJXMTiJxNsMq) // [ youtube playlist ](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A) (songs linked in fic) 
> 
> shout out to my beta https://userkant.tumblr.com/ and artist celia https://louisprideflag.tumblr.com/
> 
> my tumblr: anderscones.co.vu


	8. On The Maelstrom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> graphic depictions of violence throughout. there's a scene that isn't graphic or violent but is potentially triggering and has to do with some of the tags, so if youd like to skip, ** starts that section and **** ends it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 11.1k
> 
> and the stench of the sea and the absence of green are the death of all things that are seen and unseen. not an end, but the start of all things that are left to do.

Harry // [Keep on Moving - Trocadero](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UdA_Zh19c4E&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=28&t=0s)

The days are warmer and the snow disappears. The cave is no longer freezing and when Louis shoves his toes under Harry's legs, it's not a shock to his system with how cold they are, though he is a little dismayed to no longer be a nuisance to him. Brat.

His adjustment from the cabin still isn’t as graceful as it should be, especially with the amount of time that’s passed since they left. The change in scenery doesn’t do anything to help and his mood is still abysmally low, but he chugs along just as best as he can and tries to ignore the way his stomach turns to stone when he thinks about their progress too hard.

He's in the middle of drawing sigils from memory onto the stone floor with a bit of charcoal when Niall jumps away from the spell book. Both he and Liam look up and read the archer's shocked expression with curiosity. 

"That's it." 

Harry glances at Liam where he’s stopped preparing dinner before asking him, "What's it?" 

" _No_ ," He says gleefully as he picks up the book and flips to the previous page. " _That's it!_ " Turning the page forward, Niall shows that the sheet after is completely blank. "I was looking for the next potion we have to make, _but that's it!"_

"Oh shit, no way!" Harry laughs out as he springs up too. Months and months of preparation and they’re finally done.

Niall grins stupidly, wonder colouring his bright eyes and ruddy cheeks. He looks closer to his age now that his hair has been restyled and returned back to its natural brunette state. “What now?”

Harry doesn't hesitate like Liam does to run through the process he's come to learn better than his favourite song. "Nothing now. We have to wait for a first quarter moon to set a cresting date. When it comes, the five of us have to drink our draughts and reopen the Grand portal the Gods made and write vitality and protection sigils around it. Then Zayn and Louis will take their remaining potions and say the incantation with their respective spells," He moves to the vials in the corner and crouches over them to separate Zayn's from Louis'. "Zayn has a weakening spell and Louis is the bind." 

Liam works on rubbing spices into the deer meat he's holding before letting his giddy smile dissipate and dropping into Serious Mode. "The portal locks them in, right?" 

Harry nods back diligently. "Part of its structure is made to sort of magnetize The Old Ones in, but they have to be brought down below a certain power level before that happens, which is Zayn's job. Then Louis' bind should keep them from regaining their strength and clawing out before the portal closes. Once it's closed, they won't be able to come through without the portal being opened from our realm." 

"When's the next first quarter?" Niall asks, peering over Harry's shoulder to get a look at the glasses he's moving around. 

The blacksmith thinks about the previous nights he'd been outside with Louis. "A week? I'm not sure- we'd have to ask Zayn." 

The boys nod at him. He finishes sorting the bottles but a strange rigidness settles over the cave in an annoying blanket. 

Niall breaks the silence first, fidgeting where he stands. "We're really doing this. It's always felt like it was really far away- like we wouldn't actually get to the end - but now we're here and I don't know what to do with myself." 

Liam nods and sets about starting a real fire. "It's mad," he agrees easily. "And we've been waiting so long, but seven days feels like they might as well be seven years," 

The silence comes back while they putter around and wait for the elves to return from scouting Cowell’s cabin, but this time it's less suffocating. Harry used to hate being nervous, but right now, it's like a comforting beam of sun on his chilled skin. He knows it means growth. He can only hope it's for the better. 

  


* * *

  


The cresting date looms over their heads and things get even harder if that’s possible. Emotions are high and they're all worried about Niall passing out every single day from the anticipation and stress, all on top of their own moods. At a time that Shali visited the cabin, Zayn had gone out and retrieved supplies from the castle, putting them in a cache just outside the walls for the other boys to help pick up from their cave as he made trips back and forth. 

They're quieter than usual and sit in silence while they try on armour and shields and swords and charge stones to dump into pouches for extra mana they may need at a moment's notice. Harry enchants arrows for Niall while Zayn modifies his brand new recurve bow to fire harder while requiring less manpower. Not even Louis dares to break the muted veil that has fallen over them like shadows. 

A tide is about to turn. 

  


* * *

  


Louis

Louis wakes up on the cresting date and feels suspiciously calm. 

The sun hasn't risen fully yet, but he feels too awake to keep laying down, so he untangles himself from Harry's arms and carefully steps over the boys who had wordlessly piled around him the night before in an attempt to feel normal enough to sleep. Quietly, he creeps his way out of the cave and leans against the large boulder with his arms crossed, watching the horizon as the sky turns a light blue with orange edges. His chest feels empty at the sight and his toes are sort of cold. 

It's not a minute later when Harry sidles out next to him, pale skin glowing in the low light. Tattoos dot the otherwise smooth surface and the cage on his side flutters open when he lifts his arms above his head in a stretch, door swinging on its hinges in the invisible wind. Louis glances down at his wrist laid over his left arm and catches the birds there gliding around on their own. He pretends to not see it and wonders how it could be a coincidence they have tattoos that answer each other from before they’d even met.

Harry says nothing, just stands there next to Louis. They can't see the sun very well from where they stand, but the sky is still as beautiful as it's ever been, changing from cool blue to a honeyed tangerine with swirls of raspberry mingling in it. It steals his breath in a gentle way and the moment only gets sweeter when Harry shuffles down against their brace and leans his head on Louis' shoulder. 

  


* * *

  


[Glitter and Gold - Barns Courtney](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S9k0Ofub9Zk&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=29&t=0s)

The mood while they get ready reflects that of the last few days. It feels like he hasn't used his voice in months and he's not sure he could get his vocal cords to work if he decided to speak now. He slides his bare feet into his recently mended boots and loves the worn-in feel soft against his soles, sighing absently at the small comfort. They have a full day ahead of them and if they do it wrong, this could be the end. All of this could lead to nothing but disappointment and terror. 

Louis tries not to think about it. 

He finishes lacing up his shirt and pulls on the fingerless gloves Harry hands him, holstering his dagger in the belt of his trousers. He watches the others tug at their clothes and tools and suffers through a deep sense of dread. Maybe he’s only a year or two older than all of them, but he feels oddly responsible for their little group. He dragged every single one of them into this, whether or not they willingly chose to stay and figure things out with him.

They’re all babies to him and he can’t help the knot that crawls up his chest when Liam tightens the quiver that sits on Niall’s back so he has easier access to the arrows there, because all he sees are two children who grew up in a castle together, causing problems for the staff and Court. Zayn is still that quiet soul who draws when he’s bored and smokes when that doesn’t work and smiles too much when he’s meant to keep a straight face. And Harry? He’s supposed to be in his shop tirelessly learning about swords and armour he’s eager to build. Harry who sometimes laughs too hard or sings too loud but is just curious enough to err on the side of reckless.

All four of them are meant to be free and innocent. 

This is just a prison to them.

Tears that he refuses to shed stick in his throat and he takes a deep breath. Harry catches his quick glance and shuffles in next to him as Louis looks down at his hands, pulling at his gloves to straighten them out. He presses a kiss into the side of Louis’ head and murmurs, “We’ll be fine,”

He nods back minutely and takes another look at the boys around him. It still doesn’t feel right, but sometimes he just has to acknowledge that he doesn’t have to sacrifice himself if they can just work together instead.

He lifts a pack from the floor, the contents inside jangling together to make a disconnected song of liquid-filled glass. Zayn mirrors him.

“We have to go to where the portal was opened, right?” Niall asks anxiously.

Just after Zayn hums out a confirmation, they all look to Louis, who is the only one who knows exactly where The Old Ones were called to. He swallows and nods before turning to the mouth of the cave. 

The five of them march along silently through the forest their cave is in, staring at the quickly-blooming foliage and refusing to speak to one another. None of them have any idea what to expect from what they’re about to do. Maybe there will be no resistance at all. 

Unlikely.

As they draw nearer and round the castle border, familiarity sets in with Louis. He recognizes most of the surroundings, and now that he thinks about it, this part of the forest should be native to all of them except for Harry, what with Liam and Niall using this route presumably every time they went to see their friend.

His heart starts beating harder and harder and he almost jumps out of his skin when a magenta pixie comes flying into his face. He manages to not yell but clutches at his chest and doubles over, Perrie coming around from above to pull him out of his crouch.

“Perrie, what the _fuck_?!”

The bell of her voice sounds off hurriedly and erratically and Louis sees her spin around in a little circle, hands gesturing to the forest behind her while she shakes her head back and forth. When she finally stops to face him in full, she turns just barely to yell over her shoulder into the woods and the other three girls come racing out from different spots in the brush, causing saplings and leaves to sway ominously in their wake.

Jade rushes to Perrie and tries to get her to calm down while Jesy grabs at Louis’ hand and pulls him in a certain direction, barely glancing at the other boys as she drags him. He can still hear the bells going off behind him and he looks over his shoulder, motioning for the group to follow.

Jesy’s little braid stubbornly stays in place in front of her shoulder as she directs him to stand just behind a tree and urges him to look into the clearing. He already knows what he’s supposed to be seeing, his pond only a few meters ahead of them, and the place where he first saw The Old Ones just beyond that.

Except instead of it being empty, there’s a slurry of coven members ambling around and mixing potions that he reluctantly acknowledges are probably for bond breaking. Louis looks back and takes in the worried expressions on his friend’s faces and he assumes they’re thinking exactly what he is.

“What do we do?” Niall asks quietly. His expected anxiousness is replaced with conviction and determination.

“There’s so many of them. I don’t know that we’d be able to take all of them,” Liam says back.

Zayn straightens up suddenly and Louis can tell he has an idea.

“What are you thinking?” He inquires, ready to comply however he needs to.

“I’ll lure the guard out here- they’re supposed to be on patrol looking for us, right? If I bring them here, we’ll have a group fighting alongside us; there’s no way the coven won’t attack them. The guard might even let us go if they see we aren’t the ones they should be worried about,”

“We may not be able to wait for you to get back with them,” Harry comments with a nod towards the potion making stations. “They look like they’re almost done, and if those are the boundless draughts, we can’t let them finish.”

“Shit,” Niall breathes out. “How did they get so far ahead? They weren’t supposed to be done until months from now.”

Liam shakes his head back, defeat creeping into the edges of his otherwise determined bravado. “It was probably The Old Ones; they’re still very powerful beings and had to have helped stay on track.”

Jesy waves at them as she floats into the middle of their lopsided half-circle. The other girls had wandered over after calming Perrie down, who now sits calmly on Louis’ dagger poking out of his holster. The green pixie looks directly at Zayn and sings out a melodic tinkling in familiarity.

“She says she can uncork some of the bottles and dump them out,”

“Jesy, you’re brilliant,” Louis says in relief and she just smiles back at him wickedly, quietly floating out toward the stations with the other girls following her. He looks back to Zayn. “How long do you think? Ten minutes?”

The mage nods back. “If that,” and with barely a blink, he disappears in a pink fizzle.

  


* * *

  


Zayn // [Knights of Cydonia - Muse](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uV0dwrpkUKE&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=30&t=0s)

It doesn’t take long for him to locate the patrol that just left the citadel walls, and it’s only a few seconds before he appears right in front of them. “Hey!”

They stand in confusion before understanding exactly who phased onto their plane. The captain at the front lunges for him just as he disappears back to the overrealm, the pink hue of his surroundings fitting around him comfortably. He’s only gone for another few seconds before he materializes again and the group catches sight of his form only a few feet in front of them.

The sídhe does this for another couple of minutes until they reach just outside the clearing, then he keeps going back to his group unseen. He transfers in and all four of the boys jump shamelessly, Harry subconsciously moving to stand in front of Louis. They all breathe in and Louis bumps his forehead against Harry’s shoulder, whispering out, “Twat…”

“They should be entering the camp in a second,” He announces and moves to watch the clearing from behind their cover. In a matter of seconds, the mages below stop dead in their tracks at the sound of yelling coming from off the workspace, a lookout warning the guard’s arrival. 

The sentries come flying past the ring of trees and are confused. Before they can ask any questions to the group in front of them, one of the coven members sends a bolt hurtling towards the kingsmen. After just a moment, an Old One rears into the clearing, which sends the guards scattering and causing a few to break off and run back towards the castle.

“Alright,” Louis says as he swiftly slides his pack from his shoulder, setting the dark leather on the slightly soggy forest floor. He pulls potion after potion out, the first batch meant to give them extra mana and power and the second being their portal elixirs. “Let’s down these and try to get out as fast as possible. If we’re lucky, they won’t even notice we’re here,”

Liam makes shaky yet determined eye contact with him. Zayn can sense the magic flowing easily and feeds off the active energy before he’s even taken the draughts. He holds out the last of the bottles from his bags and stares at their sludgy, murky liquid inside, a weird pearly-gold glow mixing on the outside of the dark brown. 

The other boys take the glasses from his hands with shaking fingers and grimace in tandem. They stand still for a moment, glancing around their circle solemnly. Harry stands shoulder to shoulder with Louis and Niall has his arms crossed, a few fingers sneaking into his mouth nervously as Louis tugs him closer with his free hand. Automatically, Zayn steps forward and Liam follows subconsciously, their little family bouncing effortlessly into a group hug.

Nobody says a word. They just step away with a nod and knock back the potions.

Immediately, it becomes apparent that they won’t be getting out of it like ghosts. A whirlwind starts slowly around them before becoming so violent that branches start snapping off of trees and brush kicks up into a dust storm. A burst of light blasts into the ground at their feet, which brings up a dark ash that flows around their group until the space between all of them shimmers and distorts into an empty void, portal blocking the view they have of each other.

Loud groaning comes from behind Zayn, sounding of metal scraping against itself mixed with something eerily otherworldly. He turns and sees The Old Ones charging right at them, the coven behind them with jaws dropped in shock at the sight of the portal being opened.

Zayn sprints out from their spot without so much as a glance behind him and enters the fray, summoning wards around him with a wild yet precise flail. Jumping lithley over a dead tree, he casts out a fireball towards the coven that hits the ground and blasts up a cluster of dirt. He can hear shouting from behind him and feels an extra shield build around him along with a passive healing spell, the smell of the forest growing stronger with Niall’s protective power.

He stops a few meters away from the scene of confused fighting between the mages and the guards, no one actually knowing what’s going on except for the five of them. Zayn fires relentlessly at the monsters bounding towards him only for his spells to rip through their smokey bodies uselessly. Their forms shimmer just as the portal does and he knows his magic is like oil being swirled through water.

Liam sprints past his vision around one of the demons and Zayn nearly starts at the sight of his boy running so close to these abominations, though Liam subsequently gets them all to follow. A lion-like creature bounds towards the knight but stops just short of the table Liam climbs over and swipes angrily at the air, hissing nastily while the knight blocks a fire blast with his shield. Harry runs mostly unseen towards the stations as well, sliding underneath one smoothly and garnering more attention from different creatures. Zayn note the very real indents in the dirt The Old Ones leave and how close the knight and blacksmith stay to the potion-covered tables.

He can hear something in the tree above him and watches as small blossoms rain down from the branches. Zayn glances up to see Louis crouched there with a bottle in his hand, shaking it purposefully at him. He looks back towards where Liam is stood, fighting mercilessly with a coven member and takes in the creatures creating a barrier around the ring of tables but not attacking. They dance around the stations agitatedly and growl, but refuse to move forward.

“ _Fucking idiots_ ,” Zayn mutters about the coven and climbs up Louis’ tree. He blows out a breath of relief. He honestly cannot believe that the mages made a workplace that accidentally serves as a barrier. The demons could easily barrel through the tables and upset the vials and prepared ingredients on them, but they don’t seem to want to.

He’s sure that most people would look at these creatures and assume that they’re reckless hell hounds with no cognitive processing, but they’re just as old as the Gods and just as all-knowing, or would be if they were functioning under their full power. They have to know that if they ruin the coven’s work, they’ll be stuck here much, much longer.

Zayn reaches the top and peeks up from the trunk to see Louis turn to him breezily. “We need to still be quick, I think,” He says. “If we get close to killing all of the coven, they may just trash the progress because it’d be quicker to remake the potions than to find more people to free them,”

Zayn nods in agreement and starts his way back to the forest floor. He gracefully hops down the last few feet and runs full speed towards the portal to start working the sigils into the dirt around it. His ears twitch when a few more parties of guards approach the clearing and he can see Louis picking it up too as he takes his gloves off. They work quickly and messily, their nails housing soil and breaking when they dig against more solid patches.

The symbols go quickly and barely any time at all passes. While Louis leans down to retrieve their potions from his bag, Zayn quickly locates Niall across the way, pinging arrows into a group of guards who just joined the area and are attempting to make their way towards the portal. Between that and a few of the creatures stalking around the guards, they’re kept at bay and he’s never been so thankful for how in tune they are with one another.

He’s about to turn around to Louis again when the frantic sound of Liam screaming makes his blood run cold. It’s just his name, but it’s so packed full of fear that he immediately snaps his attention to where the knight is, no longer fighting and now sliding across the table in front of him to run past the demons. Zayn takes a hurried step forward and begins to phase into the overrealm to avoid any of the obstacles around them just to get to Liam, but as he does, a searing pain goes through his rib cage that makes him choke at the sudden sharpness.

The world flickers pink around him and his breath comes up his throat a little watery as he roots around his chest in search of the pain. He can’t lift his left arm without the hurt intensifying and he looks down pitifully, shaking his head at the grisly sight of wood poking out from his ribs.

He can hear Louis behind him frenetically calling his name from the commonplane, fear rising further into his voice and making it pitch unevenly. His tone changes, and it’s so jarring that it takes Zayn a second to realise it’s not English. It’s something primal and sort of nonsensical, but he recognizes it as an Elvish growl that he’s certain Louis doesn’t even know he’s made.

Before he slides to his knees, brow furrowed, he watches Louis angrily scramble up a tree to his left with a sort of ferocity he’s only ever seen when Louis is truly furious. He pokes at the arrow and grimaces in pain and hates the crimson that paints his finger as he pulls away, the liquid shimmering a little with magic. There’s no way he could even attempt to pull it out, much less try to fight with it still there.

It gets harder to breathe and he realizes the point has to have pierced his lung. Swiping at a tear that runs down his face, he glances up and tries to find Niall again. Maybe he can walk in the overrealm to get to him and be safe enough for them to figure out the situation themselves.

Zayn tries to stand, but he’s breathing too hard and is starting to get dizzy with the effort. Outwardly, he knows he’s starting to panic, but he can’t get a handle on himself. He gulps down as much air as he can and glues his eyes shut, shaking his head profusely and flinching every time he jostles his side.

“Zayn?” He hears his name being called distantly. It sounds stressed and distraught instead of the steady, warm cadence it usually carries. It’s all wrong.

He lifts his head in search of the voice and finds the frenzied and lost silhouette of Liam pacing around a few feet from him on the commonplane. Immediately, his only thought is that Liam may get an arrow in his skin as well, so he phases back to the underrealm unsteadily to warn him.

“Liam,” He answers back weakly, leaning on his palm buried in the brush while the other clutches around the wood in his side. The knight spins around frantically and breaks into a sprint towards the mage, falling to his knees right in front of him.

“Hey,” He coos softly, one hand clutching uselessly at Zayn’s cheek. “Let me see,” He moves his hand gently down his side and hovers over the entry of the wound before looking up at another figure joining them. “Did you get him?”

It takes a second, but Zayn vaguely registers that the odd question is directed at Louis to his left. He answers with a heaving chest and a nod as he wipes his hands on his trousers. Zayn looks around the elf and sees a guard laying motionless in the bloody grass a couple meters away, bow discarded uselessly at his feet. Niall trots over from a tree not too far from them and kneels right next to Liam, Harry coming up slowly behind Liam with a nervous look tossed over Zayn’s head, presumably communicating silently with Louis.

“We have to get this out. You see how he’s breathing?”

“Yeah, it’s got to be in his lung for sure,”

Liam raises his hand again to his face and murmurs gently, “Zayn, darling, we’ve got to move you somewhere else, so I’m going to lift you, okay?”

“No,” The mage gasps out with a shake of his head as he sits fully on his ass gracelessly. “We still have to do the spell,” It’s quiet for a second, the four of them considering this with a sinking feeling. The point is mostly moot- if they save him now, he’ll only die later and so will millions of other people, but there’s no way he can perform it in his state, not even with being healed. 

“I can do it,” Harry says so softly in the stunned silence that it nearly feels dreamlike.

Zayn peeks up and sees Liam twisted away from him, arm resting on his bent knee. He’s flipping over the information in his head as he glances between Harry and Louis before turning to Niall and Zayn. The archer nods his head while Louis lets out a soft “Yeah.” Liam nods back and murmurs out his own affirmation while looking Zayn dead in the eye for an agreement.

The mage just stares back, struggling to take in air. “He can do it.”

Liam brings his other knee up and settles into a crouch before manoeuvring around his right side and slipping an arm under the bend in his legs, wrapping the other carefully around his hip to stand with the sídhe in his hold.

He turns to Louis and Harry, who have shuffled over towards their sigils. “Good luck,” he murmurs while backing up slowly towards Niall. The three of them take off at a brisk pace deeper into the woods in the opposite direction from them, the coven and demons still preoccupied with battling the guard and safely ignoring the five of them.

  


* * *

  


Louis // [Hero - Lissie](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C6bo14aOe1I&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=31&t=0s)

He stands resolute in front of the hulking portal, Harry right next to him. He can feel the air change in preparation of using so much magic, clicking with electricity of mana being pulled into both of their bodies like sponges soaking up water. Louis shakes himself out and looks directly at Harry after making sure the carvings in the dirt are even and undamaged. 

He doesn't have to hear any of the words Harry must be dying to say, knowing that the same words are on his own tongue. The determined look in those green eyes gives it all away. It doesn't keep him from wishing that they fell into each other the way he knows they should have. 

They nod at each other and start the joint incantation. It's stronger than any magic he's ever used before and it makes him feel so powerful. The euphoria doesn't last long, though; he can feel something go wrong inside of him and his stomach drops as it twists unsettlingly. 

This magic was meant to be used by Gods, not commonfolk, and he knows that if he sees this through, his body will give out. Louis pushes tears back and focuses as hard as he can on keeping his source going as long as possible. A blue aura covers his skin in heat waves that are almost too much for him to handle. He looks at Harry to see how he's faring. 

Strong winds whip around him as their auras grow, flinging Harry's curls all over his face, but it seems that he's doing just fine, almost like it's easy for him to house the spell.

Louis clears his head and gears up to push the magic out and towards the portal, hands in front of him as if he's meant to grab something. A beam of red light shoots out from where Harry stands as he casts his solo spell. Howling comes from behind the portal, presumably The Old Ones losing their power and trying to resist it. Louis’ struggles to summon his own blue beam. 

It comes out for a second, but then flickers and trickles away from his fingers. His head is pounding and his body aches with the effort of keeping it strong. He focuses harder and lets out a strangled yell, pushing a sturdy stream from his fingertips. Harry looks at him in concern, but he only shakes his head at him and ignores the way his blood seems to be pushing against the inside of his skin. 

Louis watches their magic mix into violet through fat tears and breathes out in relief when he notices an Old One in the distance shimmer into dust, getting sucked towards the gateway at an intense speed. The portal is shrinking and screeching in protest under the purple cloud the monsters leave behind. He's aware that he's full on shrieking from his own stress and sobbing between. Not enough air is making it into his lungs and his blood is boiling in his veins as it leaks out of the life lines in his palms.

Harry yells his name, but he can only shake his head again. Whatever happens, _they can't stop_. 

Dust and wails are magnetized to the doorway and grow in large numbers over the next minute until there's a single second of blessed silence aside from the wind kicking around them. Then, the portal crumbles in on itself and the magic disappears, leaving only trees and growing Spring grass in its wake. 

**

Louis thinks he might pass out, but then he doesn't. His body feels intensely cold and fuzzy, a stark difference from the sharp shooting pains and scalding temperature he felt just a moment ago. Something thuds to his left, and when he glances down, he sees himself. He scrambles away, towards his right, and fully expects to run into Harry but doesn’t. Instead, he phases right through the solid man, who sounds akin to a banshee as he howls Louis' name, falling to the ground next to his body. 

His own eyes are closed and his mouth is slack where he lays on his side. The palms of his hands are crimson. It sends a harsh thrill up his spine that screams, "Wrong! Wrong, wrong, wrong!! Something is wrong!" He's not meant to see himself like this. Louis doubles over as his mind tries to comprehend what's happened, why his body is laying lifeless right in front of him, why, if he's dead, he's still conscious. The sight of his motionless body unnerves him, shaking him right down to his core. He thinks if he had a stomach, he'd be sick. 

His head spins with questions. Nausea overpowers his coherency, but Louis keeps himself mostly-together. He needs to know what comes next. 

It's eerily quiet around them. All of The Old Ones are gone, along with the remnants of the coven, and it seems that the King’s guard has disappeared entirely. Louis is willing to bet they all fled when they noticed the monsters disintegrating. Hearing no forest animals or rustle of leaves (only the sound of Harry's heartsick murmurs) leaves a helpless feeling in Louis' gut. 

Harry's capable hands pull the empty shell of Louis' body into the V of his legs, hands carding through sweaty, brown locks and trailing down over the streaks of still-wet tears. 

" _No, no, no, no, no, no..._ " Harry whimpers as he leans his head down to hear if there's still breathing and pulls back when he realizes there's nothing there. His expression is of crushed shock, and thick pearls relentlessly stream over his cheeks. He starts rocking them back and forth, whispering unintelligible thoughts into Louis' neck and cradling his head like it might help. 

Louis kneels right next to him and frets his hands all over the place, knowing that if he were to touch, there would be no contact. He wants to run his fingers through Harry's hair and comfort him, pull him to his chest and calm his crying. _I'm right here, I'M RIGHT HERE_. The little noises shuffling from Harry's throat are enough to break him in half with the desperate need to fix it. Sorrow fills his heart at how devastated he is, and it starts to sink in just how irreparable the situation is. 

A pale yellow glow seeps out of Harry's hands in an attempt to heal Louis, but both of them know it's useless before he really even begins. Magic damage is near impossible to heal, and it being the advanced technique of an ancient book- something developed by Gods themselves - that killed Louis, there's almost no chance of it working for anybody but those who wrote it. It's heartbreaking watching him try anyway. 

Harry whips his head back suddenly and lets out a splitting, broken screech. A great cracking noise sounds above them and the sky instantly turns dark, letting rain fall heavy on them. Louis can hardly smell the wet earth. 

He sits back and wraps his arms around his knees, watching Harry cry into his hair, and fights the urge to break down himself. He knew that this could be an outcome, that he'd die sometime during this whole ordeal, but he's not so sure you can really, truly prepare yourself for death.

It's jarring and already so, so lonely. 

It's so much to take in and he can hardly think past the boy in front of him, mourning the loss so deeply. Distantly, Louis knows that his mother and sisters and brother will be devastated at the news, but Zayn will help them, and the boys will help Zayn.

A few minutes pass where he stares blankly at Harry breaking into little pieces before he can’t take it anymore and hides his face in his arms. Louis can hear someone approach through the thick sound of water hitting the trees and ground and gapes when he manages to lift his head. 

  


* * *

  


Harry

There is something dead in his soul. Inside him, he can feel the deep, freezing absence of fire that has burned there for several months and everything starts to get a little more real. Harry hasn’t ever been able to see his own aura, most people can’t, but he can just _tell_ there are tunnels and webs of empty shells that are snug against the pieces of him that live. Maybe it would feel better if they were gone altogether, but instead he’s got solid ghosts living in his body. Months ago, a deep red wormed its way between the baby pink that used to sit there, but now the life is missing from the grooves it carved out. It’s left something dead in his soul.

He should have stopped at the first sign that something was wrong with Louis. There was a bad vibe and he should have _fucking stopped_. Now he's here, holding Louis' dead body and regretting every moment he took for granted and all the times he could have closed their stupidly small distance. He was naïve enough to think there would be an after to this ending and leaned on it too much when squashing down all his I-want-to-be-more feelings. He should have taken the chance, because now, his future is laying cold in his arms. 

Louis is meant for so much more than just this one great thing. He's supposed to be full of life, blessing everyone he meets with his kindness and sharp tongue. He has siblings and a mother and a gaggle of children to make happy and receive happiness from. And Zayn... 

There were people he wanted to meet and food he wanted to try, places he wanted to see, things he wanted to experience. Louis had words like no one he'd ever met and still had strides to make to grow old and learn new things. Live his life. He still has traces of himself to leave everywhere; he's supposed to be loved by everyone he meets. 

He is supposed to be loved by Harry. 

And, god, Harry probably won't ever stop loving him. 

He sits in the rain and doesn't notice when someone kneels next to him, crying too hard to see properly. Feeling too much to be aware. He only realizes someone is there when they reach out to trail their golden hand over his own that's clutching uselessly at Louis' clothed chest. Harry doesn't even flinch like he should, just traces his eyes up the arm in disgust until he can make out the face of the owner. He nearly blacks out. 

Everything is too much right now. He shakes his head at her when he registers that she's speaking in a tinkling voice to him. He doesn't want to hear, doesn't want to understand. He lost her years ago, and now he's lost Louis. It's overwhelming in the worst, totally encompassing way. 

"Harry, please look at me," She says. Her hair is glinting gold, and it shouldn't. It's pouring. Where is the light coming from? "Harry." 

In response, he squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head harder. No. No way. He nuzzles his face into Louis' soaked, still-warm hair and ignores her pleading. He only holds out for a few seconds before the effort becomes too much and settles for a sideways glance at his mother, cheek smushed to the top of Louis' head. 

"Harry, love," His mother starts, seemingly satisfied with the half-hearted attention, "I need you to listen carefully and not interrupt. It won't be easy to make sense of what I'm going to tell you, so you have to at least try to understand." 

Rubbing his face lightly against Louis in a nod, Harry blinks at her, wide eyed. 

She's dressed differently from when he was a child- instead of a dark green tunic with covered shoes, her dress is draped elegantly around her bare shoulders in flowing rivulets that he's sure would be a pale pink if her entire being wasn't softly sparkling gold. Her hair floats gently around her head and Harry can't stop staring at her bare toes, which are curled slightly in the soft, damp grass beneath her. The rain has far from stopped, but it seems that there's a bubble around the three of them keeping it out. Dark flowers adorn her hair and petals are stuck beautifully on her face and neck. She looks just like how he remembers his mum, just if she was otherworldly. 

"Baby," Anne uses the old nickname gently, "There are things I didn't tell you for your own safety. I told your father, but it only hurt us in the end. He's gone now and I was sent back as punishment. You and Gemma? You're different. You aren't even meant to exist because of who I am, honey," She shakes her head solemnly. Harry's brow furrows. _Different how?_ He wants to ask, but he lets her continue with the sense that she’ll answer any question he has if he stays quiet. 

"I've been watching you and your bunch run around these last months trying to fix this issue. I wanted to make sure things have been going smoothly because I know how hard you’ve worked to make this happen. I knew you wouldn’t fail.” 

Anne continues on with pain in her voice. “We wanted everyone to be peaceful, but then they turned around and tried to undo all of our work. Some of the others, they said that it figures it’d be someone from here that would try to break the cage, what with all the anger and hatred running amok.”

She smiles sadly and reaches out to smooth away an errant curl from Harry’s wet face. The warmth is familiar and it brings him back to over a decade ago when she would comfort him as a child. “I never once stopped believing things would change.” The thought of his mother keeping hope through everything is comforting, though. Maybe when all this is over, he’ll be able to hope for things again, the way she has since she’s been gone. 

But where has she been all these years? Harry doesn't want to process what "we" and "our work" means. He has a vague feeling sitting on his spine, but he refuses to let it make sense because of what it means for him. He can't stand to ask but has a feeling his mother will tell him anyway.

“There are too many good people who walk this earth for change to never come, especially not when I knew such a sweet boy lived amongst them. In my heart, as sure as it beats, I knew you would do great things with all that love inside you.”

[Work Song - Hozier](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fkL6wR0xghA&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=32&t=0s)

_At what cost?_ He thinks bitterly. Maybe he’s saved the world, but there’s a cruel joke being played on him. Shouldn’t Louis have lived? Shouldn’t Harry have died? 

“Why am I alive? Shouldn’t I be dead?” Harry manages, voice rough and alien to him.

"Why are you still alive?” He flinches at that and squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to swallow down the sobs that want to claw their way up his throat. “Baby, you're the son of a God." 

Harry tries to reason with himself. He's imagining his mother coming to him at his lowest point and unloading information on him that he'd made up at the back of his mind, like some sort of fantasy. 

"No," She murmurs at him as if he were saying this out loud. "I'm not made up. I am very real, Harry. You survived the Chantella, you're able to do magic with barely any effort, you were fed Fuerty’s Spark and lived, you saved Louis' life when any other novice should have failed. Remember what Zayn asked you? All that time ago? About your parents, because no regular human could have done what you did?" 

Harry shakes his head vigorously, tears flinging off his chin with the force. He hasn't let go of Louis yet. "It's not true." 

“Oh, yes it is.”

“Why didn’t you come sooner? Before this happened?” Harry spits out, eyes flying open. “You could have kept him from dying if you came back. You could have stopped this from even starting!”

His mother bites her lip and she decides to finally sit down. “The other Gods were very angry. They wanted to see the gate open and release those demons because they thought everyone deserved it. They thought that if the commonfolk cared enough to undo all of our hard work that we should just let them and that they should learn from the mistake they were making,” She shakes her head with a sigh and pierces him with a heavy expression “If I’d left, I would have been killed after they tortured me with you and your sister’s deaths.

“Everyone knew how I felt, but they’re calloused with fury and hate the lack of control they’ve been given because the Fates didn’t plan this out. It was something totally unforseen, and they do hate being caught off guard. The last time that happened was when they found out I bore children. They’d already offered me the kindness of letting you and Gemma live once; I wasn’t going to risk that.

“After you and Louis closed the gates, the Fates regained their sight and allowed me to come down to see you as it was part of the first vision they had.”

“What do they want you to do?” He asks before burying his nose in Louis’ hair. 

She just smiles sweetly at him. "I’m meant to save him. You two are supposed to live long, healthy lives and protect this Kingdom until you’re old and tired. He's still right here, next to you." 

In response, he pushes his face farther into Louis' hair and forces himself to say, “How are you supposed to save him? He’s already dead.”

“I can bring him back,” She says in her shimmery voice. “I just need a piece of a living soul to do it.”

Harry coughs out eagerly as he pitches towards her. “He can have mine. All of it if you have to,” He shakes his head at the pained look she gives him. “No, please. He’s meant to be more. Do _whatever_ you have to to bring him back because he deserves to live more than anyone on this planet, including me.”

She cups his face gently. “It’s okay, I just need a piece. You don’t have to sacrifice yourself, baby.”

_Fuck_. Harry loosens up and pulls away from Louis slightly, lifting his head gingerly and sending her a grateful look. His mother rubs tears off his cheeks and gives back a melancholic smile. "I love you," Anne says. "You've grown into such an admirable, brave man. I'm sorry I haven't been around." 

With that, she reaches one of her palms out to caress Louis' forehead softly, the other still on Harry’s face. A cool sensation pulls at the back of his shoulder blades and follows up his neck until it reaches where his mother’s touch sits. He can finally see a bit of his aura as it spits and sparks between her hands. 

Louis shudders minutely then pitches forward suddenly with a gasp, breaking free from Harry's hold and trying to draw as much breath into his unused lungs as he can. Harry goggles at the sight and freezes where he's at, something stronger than relief overtaking him as his insides warm up almost instantly.

He turns to her in shock and she takes both of his hands. He chokes on his words as they dribble out of his mouth in a broken whisper. “ _Thank you_.”

“Your happiness is everything to me,” She says sadly when she drops his hands. His mother stands and leans down to kiss the top of Harry's head with a murmur of, "They’re calling me back now. I have to go.”

“Mum, no…” He pleads weakly. “Please stay…”

”I wish, but I can’t. Be good, baby," Anne says gently before whisking away into nothingness just inches away from him, a whisper of cloth the only thing left in her wake. 

He gawks at the shimmering air with fresher tears running down his face. The simple sight of her felt like a promise that she would stay. Harry, objectively, knows better than that but the hope couldn’t help but bubble up for those few moments of serenity he had between Louis waking up and now.

He’s brought back to reality by another round of harsh coughs and turns back to Louis. He reaches out for the cloth on Harry’s chest with a strong hand and leans into his collar bone, calming his fit as best he can. They stay like that for a minute, Harry fish mouthing and uselessly limp where he sits. 

****

Louis finally croaks out a sentence. "I was fucking dead." 

At that, Harry melts into him and hikes him into his lap with rough movements, wrapping his arms as tight as they will go around him. Sobs overtake his body with no remorse to how he's coming off. He doesn’t care. 

Louis returns the embrace just as tightly and rubs a soothing hand down his back. Sometime over the last few minutes, the rain stopped, leaving a sort of peaceful calm in its wake. Harry pulls back suddenly and clutches at Louis' front to take in his paler aura before he yanks him a few inches forward, their mouths connecting without grace. They're both soaked through and crying, and it's kind of freezing, but Harry couldn't ask for anything better than being able to do this at least once. The pair break apart a moment later and rest their foreheads together, breathing in each other's air. 

"I can't wait, Louis," Harry starts frantic and quiet, "I need you to know that I lose my mind when I'm around you. You make me so happy, like I can float above everything when you so much as look at me. I can feel the inside of my chest turn hot when you speak to me like I'm the most important thing in the world. I couldn't imagine being anywhere but at your side and I feel lucky that you stumbled into Liam and I in town that one day, even with the shitty circumstances that led us together, and I don't remember how I ever managed without knowing what it feels like being in your life," He swallows thickly. 

Harry doesn’t know where the speech came from since he’s never given thought to actually expressing his feelings. It was something he labeled as “worry about later” and tucked away for safekeeping. It feels weird and hopeless to be confessing whatever his raw emotions are throwing at him, like it’s all for naught and he’s just making a complete fool of himself. Are his words even coming out coherently? He thinks so.

He’s really gone and fucked this up if Louis doesn’t feel the same, so he guesses it’s best to go all out if he’s already come this far. Heartbreak is nothing to what he’s just gone through. Hopefully.

"You make it easier to breathe. I... I want to breathe you in for the rest of my life, I think." 

"I can't believe I ever thought you were a complete dickhead," Louis laughs in astonishment. 

Harry exhales shakily and closes his eyes. "If you don't feel the same, that's okay. Just know that I'm better for having known you." 

"Of course I feel the same, Harry," Louis says earnestly, "How could I not?" 

Harry pushes his face back into Louis' neck and breathes out hotly. "You'll stay with me? Long term?" 

"Yes." 

" _With_ me," Harry clarifies, because he _needs_ to. "As someone you could fall in love with." 

"I'm already in love with you," Louis giggles a little incredulously. 

Harry laughs back in relief, sniffing away some residual of crying and sags slightly into Louis, letting himself be bundled up in his slight arms. He hears something approach from behind him and tenses up, ready to fight anyone who tries to come between them, but relaxes when the elf grips at him and calls "We're alright, boys!" 

[The Kids Don’t Wanna Come Home - Declan Mckenna](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LOWe4yVy_I8&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=33&t=0s)

"Oh, holy shit," Harry hears Liam say, "You guys really did it?!" 

"I think so," Louis replies in relief.

Zayn's aura invades Harry's senses as the mage plops down right next to them. A cool hand lands on the side of his face that isn't snuggled into the elf's neck and, apparently satisfied with what he finds, he removes it to rest on Louis' cheek just above Harry's head. 

Harry can feel him freeze before all but jostling him from his seat. "No," He gasps harshly. "What happened?" 

Louis pulls Zayn in tight and whispers in his ear, "I'm fine." They sit like that for a moment before Louis gives him a firm expression that says he's not downplaying it. 

Zayn sits back dumbfounded, eyes slowly growing into their hazel shade again. He lets Harry settle back in Louis' space pathetically, allowing himself to be wrapped up again completely. Louis addresses the silent group around them. "Being commonfolk, my body wasn't up to housing the spell. I made it through but died almost as soon as the spell finished. I was..." Louis pauses and takes a deep breath. "I'm not totally sure where or what I was, but I have a feeling I was a spirit." 

Louis leans into Harry and sighs. He can't imagine what sort of turmoil might be swirling inside of him, having been dead for any amount of time and totally aware of it, so he just leans into him too. "One of the Gods came down and congratulated me on helping defeat The Old Ones and as a reward, brought me back," Louis lies. 

Harry is positive that isn't what happened. His mother didn't do it for Louis- she did it for Harry. She said that he was still around while they were speaking, but wouldn't that mean Louis heard everything she said to him? He could tell the whole story, Harry's sure of it, but appreciates that he doesn't. It's not Louis' news to reveal if it's revealed at all. 

Zayn's face has calmed and he asks, "What about Harry, then? Was he resurrected, too, since he’s also commonfolk?" He says it casually, seeing right through Louis. “Is that why his aura is all over yours?”

Harry can decipher a split second of debate on Louis' face. To save him the trouble of fabricating another lie, he blurts out, "I'm a demigod." 

" _What_ ," Niall spits incredulously, holding his arms out from his sides. "You never said anything!" 

"Well," He huffs back in disbelief. "It's not like I fucking knew." 

"How do you mean?" Liam asks as he sits right next to Zayn, hand coming down to rest lightly on the space where the mage's wound was. Good on Niall. 

"The God who brought Louis back..." He bites his lip and lets his head fall back on Louis' shoulder, "She's my mother." Nobody says anything but the air holds a tense curiosity, so he continues. 

"Her and my father died when I was young. She said that she was being punished for telling my father what she was and was dragged back to her old world. Apparently, they never told my sister and I to keep that from happening to us." 

"You had no idea?" Zayn asks carefully from where he's sunk into Liam's side. 

Harry shakes his head. "None. She said she was watching and wanted to help but they kept her back because they wanted the planet to realize how badly we'd messed up by allowing The Old Ones to be summoned. She came here when..." He chokes off the last of that sentence and grips at Louis' shirt uselessly. They're both gross and covered in dirt and blood and sweat, but he can't stand to be any farther away. “Said the Fates ordered it.”

"She brought Louis back," Niall concludes gently while he sits, joining their circle easily. "Well, thank you, Harry's mum." 

Harry wonders what's in store for him and the others for sharing this story. He has a feeling they may be spared for stopping The Old Ones. 

They all sit there quietly, allowing themselves to just _be_. It feels final and finished and also slightly unsettling. Over the last six months, this is what they've been working towards. Now, it's finally come and passed and they don't have to worry about literally anything right this second, no thoughts of what they have to do tomorrow or randomly going stiff with the knowledge that the world could end at any moment. It's suddenly over. It almost doesn't feel real. 

It's peaceful when they sit there long enough for the sun to start setting, but that peace is broken when both Louis and Zayn tense abruptly. Louis shoots up but wobbles on his unsteady legs, possibly a side effect of being dead. "The guard is coming," 

"A bit late, aren't they?" Zayn snorts and rolls his eyes as he stands, pulling Liam up with him. "If we're fast enough, we can probably get to the pond and hide out in there for a while." 

"You guys go. I need to speak with my father." 

Harry's jaw drops, eyes wide. Louis replies from where the blacksmith is helping to support him. "Niall..." 

He gives his head a shake that dispels some mud and rubble. "No, I have to do this," He murmurs determinedly. "This is the first time we've seen them even _investigate_ something, much less actively pursue a tip. All their resources were spent on finding us and, according to Cowell, they weren't thinking about anything but our group,” 

He shakes his head and starts to get heated. “The world would have ended today if it wasn't for us and he would have just sat by and let it. Even if he'd gotten his arse in gear a few months ago, The Court wouldn't have been able to stop it because it’d be too late by now!" He's nearly shouting in anger at this point and huffs out a defeated breath, "What kind of heir to the throne would I be if I didn't at least give him a good chewing out for ignoring all the signs? I can't sit by and watch our people suffer because I'm afraid of being arrested or killed." 

It's quiet between all of them, no movement. Harry figures they have to leave right now if they want to make it anywhere. He painfully unwraps Louis from his shoulder and nudges him toward Liam and Zayn. "Go with them, I'll stay with Niall." 

"What if I want to stay with him, too?" Louis spits indignantly and folds his arms. 

Niall is about to say something when Liam interrupts. "I've known you since before we could walk and I've been by your side ever since. You're my brother- I won't let you face him without me," He turns with a gentle face to Zayn. "I don't think any of us would condemn you if you decided to run." 

"No," Zayn says firmly. 

Niall looks nervous but secretly pleased by the solidarity. Horse hooves pound against the earth in the distance, so the five of them stand as tall as they can. Harry knows they're a sore sight- covered in dirt and greasy from sweat and still slightly soaked from the rain that appeared and disappeared in a flash. They're all dusted in blood, too, which Harry’s been willfully ignoring for the last half hour. 

The only measure anybody takes against the approaching Calvary is Zayn putting up a field around them to keep them safe from any ranged attacks or charging soldiers. The first horse stops a few feet away with the King himself sat right on top, bedecked in knight’s armour. 

"What's this, then?" The man asks impatiently. 

"I could go from the start, but how much would you actually hear?" Niall asks coolly. 

The King scoffs but motions for the troop to follow, making sure the boys are surrounded before herding them forward through the rain that starts to fall again. Louis trips a few times so Harry bites the bullet and carries him. It's not like he minds; he's just happy to be carrying an awake and alive Louis. 

There are plenty of onlookers peeking at them from behind the line of guards that leads through the citadel. Their faces have been posted around Horan’s Realm since they disappeared, so there’s no doubt that every single person that watches on thinks they’re dangerous criminals. They’re jeered at through the mist of the rain that can’t make up its mind and he’s sure that some of them would be throwing things if they weren’t sharing such a tight space with the King. Some of these people, Harry could identify by first name. It’s like knives stab at his chest when they stare at him in pure disgust. 

They approach the Capitol and walk up the pretty stone path towards the castle. The entrance is just as grand as it was the last time Harry was there and he watches as the King dismounts his horse, handing it over to a stable boy while the rest of the mounted knights ride towards the pens. Another group of guards flank their group in replacement. 

They’re led towards the large doors on the ground floor and a knight at the front of the patrol pushes them open, letting everyone into the throne room. Louis is still in his arms when the King sits noisily in his chair, the metal of his armour clanking against the pristine seat. 

"Put the damn elf down; he can stand by himself," He spits. Harry just barely bites his tongue and gently slides Louis to the floor. They should be eating something and falling into a much-deserved sleep. "Speak, before I have your friends beheaded," Niall's father waves lazily at him, appearing disinterested, like he would rather be doing literally anything else. 

[Young and Menace - Fall Out Boy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V7nLXqz8kCY&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=34&t=0s)

"You're a cruel man, you know?" Niall starts tiredly. "Our Court was working on uncovering a possible summoning of The Old Ones before you sent Liam away. He was the lead on that mission and you trashed it when you defamed him and his family, which meant we stopped investigating something that could have destroyed everything. Then weeks later, Liam came back with Harry and Louis, who had an eyewitness account of them being summoned. You _completely_ ignored it! Because of your stupid pride!" Niall is red-faced and angry. He takes a deep breath before continuing. 

"Zayn and I ran away with them to try to figure it out for ourselves since you clearly weren't going to try to stop anything. We've spent the last almost seven months running from your guards and from Cowell's coven- yes, Lord Cowell," He snaps when his father's face drops. "All while creating the spells and potions needed to restore the binds The Old Ones broke from. It was fucking hard and could have been done in half the time if you'd just listened! Liam risked his own life coming to you with that news and you just sent him away! You do realize that Cowell and Shali have been working against you this whole time, right? They've been in your ranks, infiltrating and leaking intelligence, which, by the way, you're welcome for providing information on _real_ traitors- it only took us one run in with Cowell to figure that one out. 

“Then you show up entirely overdue to the cresting date _after_ we've already taken care of it- no need to thank us for that, though. This entire Kingdom would have been gone in a blink of an eye because you got there too late and without enough reinforcements. What would you had done if you'd shown up and all of a sudden The Old Ones were attacking you with their full power? The planet would have been destroyed and it would have been _your. Fucking. Fault!_ " 

The archer is furious at this point and shows no sign of regretting a single word, nothing but revulsion on his fierce, ruddy face as he walks the space in front of his father over and over, arms flailing and voice cracking with emotion. 

"And that's not even the end of it! You treat our Kingdom like _shite_ if they don't have the money or the means to entertain you. You spit on non-humans behind their backs and murder the poor as best you can and vilify anyone who is different to you. You've outlawed those who love people of the same gender and stuff them in an arena to perform for you.” 

Niall’s voice begins to bleed with desperation. “That's not how we should rule! These are our people! They keep us alive and work to the bone to provide for themselves and their families and to support the rest of the Kingdom. They make us! But you look down at them if they don't belong to your Court, sometimes even if they do, and that's fucking pathetic, you know? That your pride keeps you from opening your heart enough to unconditionally love even your sons." 

Complete disgust takes over Niall's features and he pauses his pacing, moving to climb the steps slowly, blue eyes pinned on his father when he stops directly in front of him. He leans in close and nearly whispers, "You're not a King. Not even close. You're just a huge fucking disappointment." 

The King recoils almost imperceptibly but composes himself into an authoritative posture. "Take my son and his friends to the square for an immediate dismemberment," He orders to the knights who had slowly trickled in and lined the room. No one moves to whisk them away and the man's face changes into something angrier as he whips around to look at them. "What? I meant it. Do any of you want to be tried for treason?" 

Niall folds his arms and walks back to their group at the bottom of the shallow staircase and ushers them towards the door, the knights making no move to apprehend them or get in their way. Harry supposes they’ve heard enough between Niall and the guards who returned for reinforcements. They likely maintain their respect for both him and Liam and can see the man on the throne for what he's actually worth on top of it all. The change in loyalty must sit sourly on the King's tongue because he springs up and yells, "Stop! Where are you going?" 

"I guess we'll figure that out when we get there," Niall shoulders off evenly when he starts to pull the heavy wooden doors open. 

"I throw down my gauntlet to you, Niall James Horan." 

The five of them stop in their tracks at the sound of metal hitting the ground. Harry slowly turns to face the man. He looks like a cat who got the cream and is obviously smug about his challenge, only having known Niall as a flighty archer. But Niall isn't just an archer anymore and has grown in the last half a year from a reckless boy to a poised man. Harry knows the King miscalculates him, and there's many things Harry could describe Niall as that would make him sound simple and readable, but he isn't. Niall is someone you could bury your nose into for years and still never know everything that makes him who he is. 

The two haven't even spoken terms of the challenge, it hasn't even been accepted, but Harry knows that as soon as the King underestimated Niall Horan, he lost. 

It's a desperate attempt to assert his dominance and hopefully win back the respect of the knights around them, but it's just pathetic and shows nothing but ignorance, arrogance, and cowardice. He can read the same sentiment in the few knights around them who have taken their helmets off. 

"The terms," The man says as he glides down from his throne righteously. "Are as follows: one on one, swords only. No shields, no magic, no help. Whoever wins, takes the throne," He smiles sweetly as he strips the rest of his arm gear and pulls the chest plate over his head. "What do you think, son?" 

Niall eyes the boys and turns solely to Liam, who offers his hand with a nod. They grasp each other's forearms silently and when they release, Liam pulls his sword from the sheath hanging from his waist to offer the handle to Niall. 

"Fine," He says tiredly when he turns to face his father. 

They stand across from each other and count down. Immediately the King lunges forward with a wide swing, which Niall dodges swiftly. His father goes spiraling forward, past the prince. As the man turns around to face his son again, Niall pushes the tip of the blade right through the King's gut. The older man's sword clangs on the floor and he falls to his knees right in front of Niall, who leans forward and pushes at his father's shoulder, sending him sprawling completely to the ground as the sword slides out. He's gasping for air and it's slightly torturous to watch. The challenge is over in three moves. Harry isn't surprised. 

"I know you would have taken pleasure in ending my life, but I take none in ending yours," Niall reaches his free hand out and lets it hover over the squirming form of his father. Yellow flower petals shower out of his palm onto the closing wound, the air shimmering and glittering with magic. "It's not something a king would do." 

His father sits up, disoriented and brushing at the melting blossoms, and begins yelling. "You _fool_. You weak fool! It was a fight to the death and you didn't kill me!" 

"You didn't say to the death, you old bastard. I followed the rules, you lost the challenge," Niall turns to the soldiers lining the walls around them. "Do you agree that I’ve won?" They all nod firmly and without a trace of doubt or hesitation. Having known Niall his entire life and witnessing the downfall and grave mistakes of his father must have worn them thin over the years. "Good. Take him to the dungeons while I figure out what I want to do with him," A few are quick to comply as the man beneath them screams in vulgar protest of being dragged out of the room. 

"The rest of you, please arrange to make up three rooms for my friends and I. I'm going to the kitchen and am not to be disturbed. Send word around the castle that these four aren't to be touched or detained while they stay here, and tell the civilians nothing until I get at least three days of sleep and eat myself sick." 

He strides through the barely-open door and disappears down the corridor, blood stained sword clattering hollowly to the ground where he drops it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a [visual gallery](https://andersconesgallery.tumblr.com/x) and it's best viewed on browser. the boy's photos are in chronological order and are parallel to the progress in the fic, top to bottom.
> 
> [celia's playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1h0AxitSUh67QgkTIxhOhp)  
> [my spotify ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0Pd4o93KLkbJXMTiJxNsMq) // [ youtube playlist ](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A) (songs linked in fic) 
> 
> shout out to my beta https://userkant.tumblr.com/ and artist celia https://louisprideflag.tumblr.com/
> 
> my tumblr: anderscones.co.vu


	9. Someplace That Soothes Our Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5.1k
> 
> im just thinking back to all the versions of me that made stupid decisions because of you, and now i reflect, because this is what “we made it” looks like to me.

Louis 

The boys aren't sure if the order to stay away from Niall was extended to them, but they don't bother him the rest of the week, anyway. Just to be sure. Liam had explained early on (not that they didn't figure it out later, anyway) that Niall loves people but values his own company more than most things. They've all been packed tightly in with each other for the last seven or so months and there's only so much getting away you can do when you're bound to each other for safety. 

Louis knows that no matter how much you can't stand to be by yourself, there really is a limit to socializing. He and Harry have a shared room, which is nice, especially with how plush the bed is and how soft the carpet feels and how warm they are, but outside of sleeping and eating, they haven't seen each other all that much since they came to the castle. 

The place is just as big as he remembers and he tries to imagine baby Liam and baby Niall running through these very halls where they grew up, wreaking havoc on the staff and guards. 

Louis has never had any of these luxuries before and he’s almost scared to use them. He finds himself wandering a lot in search of finding something interesting or just _anything_ that doesn't make him feel like he'd be responsible for thousands of gold pieces if he dropped it, which is funny because he's sure that if he wasn't terrified of being caught the last time he was here, he'd have been tearing things down and knocking art over in petty glee. 

Louis makes his way outside and avoids the barracks and training grounds as best as possible; he's sure that there's been enough of that sort of thing in his lifetime. Tucked away in the corner farthest away from Tredity Forest, there's a magnificent garden with tall hedges and beautiful wood gazebos dotting the area, a stone fountain spitting out water in crystalline patterns. 

He's drawn towards the courtyard, running his fingers through the slow-moving water in the bowl of the fountain. Vines curl around the poles and ceilings of the pergolas covering the pathways. Being surrounded by nothing but nature makes him feel the least suffocated he's been since October, especially with having sent off a letter to his family explaining their win in this war. 

He can hear someone's soft breathing from out of sight and quietly seeks the pattern he's come to know over their time together. He rounds the corner of a hedge and sees the boy who makes his life just that much brighter. Harry is laying on the ground with a flower between his fingers, staring up into the canopy of leaves above him, a mixture of the vines and a few trees that linger around this part of the courtyard. 

Louis walks over without a word and sits cross-legged at his hip and plays with the little wild flowers that dot the lawn, flowers similar to the yellow blossom Harry is holding. His hair is so much longer than it used to be with curls splayed out in full locks that intertwine with the blades of grass. They don't say anything for a long time, just enjoy each other's silence until the blacksmith speaks quietly. 

"She's still around," He says with a curious look into the leaves that shield them from the May sun. "It's been a long time since we buried her, but she's not dead." 

Louis doesn't reply, not quite sure what to say. After a moment, he lays down right next to the man he wouldn’t trade for anything. He turns his head to watch Harry with great care, detailing the features that are bathed in splotches of golden sunlight here and there. He’s so beautiful and Louis can’t keep himself from rolling onto Harry’s chest to rest a gentle hand on his cheek and lean in for a sweet kiss. A smile is pressed into his own lips and he pulls away, peering into deep emerald eyes with all the love in the world.

"What do you think she's the God of?" 

Harry smiles fondly at him, a twinkle of adoration and contentedness in his face as he peers back. He reaches up and places the flower at the edge of Louis' fringe with a whisper. "She's mother nature." 

  


* * *

  


Niall // [Broken Crown - Mumford and Sons](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1LBx2YjDtYg&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=35&t=0s)

He walks down the slippery, dark steps as if he has rocks tied to his ankles. He doesn’t want to be here. It hurts him in a way that he just wants to squash down deep into his soul where he never has to deal with it ever again. An annoyed sigh escapes his lips as he reaches the very bottom. He won’t shove it aside and forget about it for the rest of his life. This is a conversation he will force himself to have in order to clear things up and get them off his forever-aching shoulders.

Niall still just wants to turn around and make the climb back up those shitty stairs and never return.

He resumes his journey after a moment of staring at the ceiling to put it off. The guard that stands in front of the cell at the very back of the closed off dungeon straightens up when he sees his new King approaching, face forward and stony under his helmet.

“Can you give us a moment, please?” He says wearily, already regretting this decision. The sentry nods and walks towards the open room full of cells. Niall stares at the dark figure at the back of the chamber atop his bed, back resting against the cold wall. The man’s hair is ratty and tangled and nothing at all like Niall has ever seen it. The grease would have never been acceptable and neither would the unkempt nature of his growing beard.

His father speaks up, voice hoarse and decrepit. “You’d really keep me locked away in here?”

“You did it to yourself. You’ll be in here for a very long time,” Niall bounces back, attempting to hide the bitterness in his voice.

“I did nothing but love you and keep you safe.”

Incredulity climbs up his throat and forces out a high laugh at the sheer transparency of that statement. “You hunted my friends and I down with orders to kill on sight before sentencing us to death when you found us yourself.”

His father rolls his head across the wall and looks into the corner of the ceiling. “Only because you disobeyed.”

“You’re so self absorbed,” Niall mutters under his breath. “You know you almost killed Greg, too, right?”

“He isn’t worth anything.”

Niall had told himself he wasn’t going to be outwardly angry in order to get to the end of this conversation. This man is making it very hard. “ _Do you hear yourself?_ He’s your son. _I’m_ your son. We’re supposed to matter to you. I rarely ever felt like you wanted anything to do with us. Any time I ever felt like you actually started to care, I found out you only did it to get things you wanted. Why did you do that?”

The man doesn’t say anything, just gets up and crosses his cell to grip at the iron slats on his door. He stares deeply into Niall’s face and all he can see in return is cold emptiness shrouded in fabricated openness. It’s very familiar. “It was to keep you safe. The world is unforgiving and just wants to hurt you.”

“What’s the point in lying to me?” Niall hisses back and tries to keep his face from crumbling.

The facade drops from the man’s expression. He licks his lips as he searches the ground for an answer before continuing in a dull voice, completely unrelated and nonchalant. “I’d always known you were trying to escape me. I’d had you followed for a very long time, especially when you were young and disappeared on your handlers. We always managed to lose you, and it was thanks to those damn faeries who slink about in the woods wreaking havoc and performing _magic_.” He spits the word out like it’s acid. Niall bites his lip, committing to memory that he needs to visit the forest more often to leave gifts. 

“Our guard would always get wrapped up in fending off those sinful beasts. We never could find you, at least not until Shali took it upon herself to pass by them without a single problem. We’d thought we could get that Zayn fellow to cooperate, but he was just as disappointing as you are even with his uses. I hated working with either of them, though, I’ll tell you that. Grimy, filthy pixies, they are. Brainless.”

Niall scrunches up his face as malice boils in his gut. “The fae are _not_ brainless or dirty, and you’d see that if you actually tried to understand them.”

His father stops to pin him with a hard stare before turning away to sit back on his bed and resume his position against the wall. “You know, when I found out what you were doing, it broke me into pieces. How could my own son _possibly_ be doing farm work, cohorting with the filth that inhabits the slums of Cercesia? I wanted you to continue Horan’s Realm the way I meant for it to be ruled. No one else was supposed to cloud your mind with fantasies of _acceptance_ when all I meant for you to inherit from me was the truth about those nasty _otherfolk_. They don’t deserve to live with us. We’re better than them.” The man shakes his head in disappointment before starting again in a bored tone.

“But you wouldn’t see it that way because you’re so stupidly stubborn, aren’t you? You don’t care about keeping our Kingdom clean. You even went so far as to allow _elves_ to roam our halls and sleep in our beds. You’re just as disgusting as them. I wish I’d been able to fix you, but you didn’t want to be fixed.” The man’s face turns into a sneer that Niall doesn’t need to be able to see in the dark. He’s seen it enough in his lifetime to recreate it perfectly in his mind.

“ _That’s_ why I treated you the way I did; I was trying to sculpt you into the perfect spawn because I saw how easily you strayed from the right path, and it’s your own fault for not allowing me to lead you to the light. It never mattered what I did, I could never get you to bend into a flawless recreation of me. I couldn’t do that with your brother, as I’m sure you know. It’s why I let his brain rot inside his head. I didn’t need him, I just needed you, but you failed Horan’s Realm by not allowing yourself to be led. Gods know what repulsive direction you’ll head my Kingdom down now. I resent that.” 

Niall leans his head against the gate of the chamber numbly. Why did he come down here, again? He knows he won’t get any satisfaction of an apology or any explanation that actually makes sense; he’s well aware that he’ll only get shitty admissions of hatred and bigotry he’s so happy he never learned to emulate. The Gods above deserve his deepest thanks for every person who ever took care of him and allowed him to radiate warmth without feeling like he might be snuffed out, even if they didn’t allow him to live a happy, functional life.

Because he knows his father sure tried to crush his spirit. It’s not a shock to hear it, not even close, but it digs deeper into him than he realized it would just by hearing those words spoken so candidly. A little piece of him had hoped his father was ignorant and just didn’t realize what he was doing, but now hearing about how he was intentionally doing all those horrid things? Just to make Niall into some sort of robot to follow out his father’s orders?

It feels like he’s being flayed from the inside out. His heart breaks inside his chest and he can feel emotion grip at the space between his lungs. It refuses to let go, just squeezes tighter every few seconds and threatens to choke all the air out of him. Everything is raw and there’s a vague sense of not being able to carry on that takes over his mind and lords helplessness over him. His chest is tight with burgeoning panic.

It’s moments like these he misses his mother, even if she wasn’t the most open minded person, either. At least she treated him like a person.

Niall steels himself to ask one more question he’s dying to get a straight answer to, face still pressed against the freezing metal. “Could we have done anything different to make you love us?”

He already knows the answer that sucks the life right out of the room. He leans further into the cell door for support as his legs threaten to crumble out from underneath him.

“No.”

  


* * *

  


Louis 

Niall calls the Court into session and most of the advisors have nothing for him other than, "Congratulations on winning your title." 

There's not much they apologize for- they were only doing as the King asked, lest they risk losing their place or be killed. Louis doesn't buy it. He sees it in the apprehension they have towards himself and Zayn that can only be directly related to their bloodlines, how they talk when they think no one is listening. They were complacent because they wanted to be and because it benefited them to not incite change; it had _nothing_ to do with the power the King held. 

Niall showed how easy it was to strip the man of his position, but when the present King says as much, they have a rebuttal for that too. 

With Greg's mental state continuing to deteriorate, there would have been no one to take the throne if they overthrew and none of the Court were fit to take the position except for Lord Cowell, who said he’d liked to have waited until the “right” time. Louis supposes that meant waiting for The Old Ones to be ready to ensure his safety, as if those demons would actually have protected him. 

Niall rolls his eyes at the ignorance, not bothering to list off his distant cousins who would have done just fine on the throne, and instead blows through a debrief of The Old Ones, both resurrection and defeat. Lord Cowell was apprehended the same day he threw his father in a cell.

There's a young man only a few years older than himself in the corner, watching all this transpire and Louis wonders if the Court around them, arguing that the rightful Crown Prince is too unwell to serve the Kingdom, realize that Prince Greg is a witness to their cloaked aggression. 

Niall insisted on involving his brother in decisions that are made in regards to the future of their land and is making sure that he's getting the medicine he needs to balance his mind. The illness has gone unattended for too long, and the King refuses to let it go untreated any longer. It's not a cure, of course, but Louis can tell the man is happier and more present than the first time he'd met him two weeks ago. So, there the man sits, parchment and quill in hand, jotting down notes and interjecting every so often with a suggestion that grants him weird looks from the rest of the Court. 

Niall schedules for a meeting to be held in the square later in the week to explain that he is now King and intends on setting things right with the people and to address the blatant disregard of some of the dark magic that apparently resides in Horan’s Realm. 

He knows there will be a lot of resistance of the richer inhabitants and questions about how their party went from wanted to ruling the Kingdom but the majority of his people will be glad for the breath of fresh air, as wary as they might be of him, what with who his father is and how he's been chased over the last year. A couple of knights, including the director, offer to vow as witnesses to the duel proposed by the previous King and verify their story, admitting that their group was wrongfully pursued. 

Some of the Court tries to persuade him to not change a single thing, using ornate words to hide their prejudice. It might have flown right over most people's heads, but the boys counter most of the suggestions with grace, the minority of the Court supporting them along the way. 

They discuss how best to hunt down the remainders of the coven and Liam is reappointed his knighthood, should he want it. Niall makes it clear that he is welcome to remain living in the castle and that his help in the hunt would be desperately needed. Of course he says yes. This was his fight, too, and the same goes for the other three. 

They don't expect the hunt to last that long, seeing as Lord Cowell is so afraid of pain that he speaks whenever someone so much as steps in his direction, though he has no idea where Shali has gone. Whether or not he's telling the truth, unwillingly or otherwise, is still up in the air. 

Niall is confident and sure in his decisions and knows mostly what he wants to do to right the wrongs, but Louis can see how worn down he is at the end of the meeting. People are constantly fawning over him and asking him questions about this and that, shit that makes no nevermind, and it's grating on Louis' nerves. He's only twenty-five, for Gods’ sake! Leave him alone for two minutes. 

So, when the meeting is officially over and Louis sees about four people inching forward to get the King's attention, the elf grabs him by the elbow and drags him out of the room gracefully. He leads them down a hallway he's come to know as usually-barren and sits him down on the floor, joining him. 

Niall just looks at him and bites his lip, seemingly knowing and not knowing that Louis can tell how fucked up he is inside. There’s pain that comes with jumping from one disaster to the next and having the heavy knowledge that his future only gets faster from here. Louis tugs him to his chest and strokes the shaggy brown hair that has since gone a bit greasy with sleepless nights. He lets Niall cry until he can't anymore and holds his hand when he lays down in the elf's lap and stares at the ceiling with an empty expression. 

"You don't have to do this alone," Louis coos quietly. 

"I'm King now. That's sort of the point." 

"The boys and I will always be here for you. And there are the advisors in the Court, though I'm not sure how helpful they'll be since they've all got the personality of a rock. You can always appoint more. I don't think anyone would think twice, not with how you saved the world or whatever and not after knocking your piece of shit dad from the throne in a ten second duel. You've sorta proved you're more than worthy of taking it easy," Louis says when he strokes his fingers through Niall's fringe. 

"Do you think so?" He looks at him desperately with red rimmed eyes. 

"Absolutely. We've all got some sort of leverage for the rest of our lives now. 'You'd speak like that to somebody who _saved your life and kept the world from ending? Are you a fool?!_ Now, fetch me those grapes, peasant.' It'll be great," he jokes. 

Niall cracks a smile and sits up, turning toward Louis with his legs crossed under him. His face goes serious again, but it's much lighter than when he was in the other room with a million and ten responsibilities on his shoulders. 

"Would you be my King's Hand?" Louis sits in shock at the brusque question. "I'd ask Liam, but when we used to talk about how I might be King when we were younger, he said he loved me but would never subject himself to that sort of responsibility and that he'd rather focus on becoming head knight. It's a big thing and it's a lot of pressure." 

"Of course, Ni," He answers back in awe of being asked something so important. "But you know my past? I know that we're closer than most people have any right to be and that I've been working alongside you to fix all this, but before we met, I'd done so many morally ambiguous things and I'd probably continue doing them now if I wasn't sure you'd make certain I'd never have to go back." 

"Don't, Lou," Niall sends him a glare that could level kingdoms. "Don't do that to yourself. Don't you remember when we first met? When you gave Harry an earful about being so clueless as to how this Kingdom was run? It was fueled by people ignoring others needs to survive, including yours. I could never hold your crimes against you and there won't be a day where I think of you any less because of them. You're a benevolent diplomat," He considers his words for another moment before huffing adamantly, "I'm just sorry that my father failed you and everyone else who isn’t like him." 

Louis feels dangerously soggy with emotion, so he just nods and says that yes, he'd love to be the King's Hand. 

  


* * *

  


Louis // [All These Things I’ve Done - The Killers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aPa89K_viiM&list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A&index=36&t=0s)

It gets easier with time, the fear of being watched and stalked every minute. Sometimes Louis wakes up in the middle of the night crying, feeling for his own body, and gets out of bed to go on late night walks around the palace. 

His family has been invited to stay, but only Fizzy and Lottie took the opportunity to move. Zayn’s mother and sisters moved in as well, happy to have the protection of the Capitol. With Niall's new laws, an official orphanage opened up and all of the children moved in, Janna and Lannan working as minders. Jay says she'll visit for weeks at a time, but doesn't have the heart to leave their home, preferring to take on an offered role as a healer in Devlin. 

Parts of his family being near and protected makes him feel safer and more normal, but he still finds himself wandering the towers and climbing the stairs to walk along the top of the inner walls. 

There are nights where Harry will join him silently, having awakened either from Louis' thrashing or from his own nightmares. They don't really talk about it because, really, what more is there to talk about still? They've gone through some really fucked up stuff in their short time together. Even with their new jobs distracting them from the horrors in the daylight, in the dark of the night, everything comes around to haunt them. 

They shoulder it the best as they can and move on with the knowledge that they're safe, they have each other, no one is coming after them, and there is no impending disaster waiting to destroy them in the blink of an eye. Harry has since come to terms with his lineage, though sometimes it still sits heavy on him. It’s just one more thing time has to take care of for them, Louis supposes.

On their days off, they sit in the garden for hours. They spend that time talking about their future, usually. Sometimes they invite Louis' pixie girls to sit with them and perform magic, because that's a thing now; fae are being regarded as commonfolk and not some sinister evil lurking unnoticed. For most people, at least. There will always be a lingering odd comment, Louis supposes, but it's better than his pixies being threatened at every turn. 

He ends up with lots of flowers braided in his hair. 

Harry is the castle blacksmith and is more than thrilled to be working with iron and steel again. Louis knows he's been distressed by losing his stability. Zayn has been gathering up mages and fae from around Horan’s realm in an attempt to rebuild the castle's magical battalion, and that's been an adventure to say the least. Louis' been around to help him with that when he's got the time outside of being the King's Hand. A lot of these people are young and are in great need of magical discipline and supervision. He'll admit they're all talented, though. 

Liam regained his knighthood and is running plenty of security checks on the influx of new employees and assuring that the grounds are well watched. They all agreed it'd be better to try to clear out as many of the old Court as possible, deeming most of them too out of practice or too loyal to the previous King to safely keep them around. One of the new members of the Court is Fizzy, and Louis is so, so proud of her for stepping up to such a big job. Harry even invited Gemma to join the Court as well, which she did with pride. There's a lot of change around the castle and it's so refreshing to see the town below thriving under the new rule. 

The months go on, spring turning to summer, and soon enough August comes for them like an arrow for a heart. It's hotter than it has any right to be, the sun hanging threateningly in the intensely clear sky, so Louis takes Harry into the forest to swim in his piece of land Niall officially granted him. A year ago, he had no idea Harry existed and he wasn't sure he'd ever see Zayn again; he even resented the little prince who dragged a huge knight behind him by his arm, but so much has changed. He's completely different than he used to be and has gone through more horrors than anyone should be comfortable with. 

He decides to make one more thing different, if the Fates allows him. 

"I think I'm moving out of the castle," Louis starts as Harry swims in lazy circles around him. He hears the blacksmith stop somewhere in the background and move to press right up behind him. "It's nice, but I don't quite fit in there." He turns in Harry's grasp to face him and run his deft fingers through the dripping curls. He still doesn't say anything, just wraps his bare legs around Louis' waist under the water and preens with the light touch in his hair as he wraps his arms around Louis’ neck. 

"I'm actually probably going to come out here and build a house in the trees," Louis says as he works a knot out of the locks. 

Harry rolls his eyes, "In the trees, of course." 

"Hey," The elf warns with a grin, "Watch your tone." 

"What one are we thinking, then?" Harry says to the sky where he's contemplating which one Louis likes most. He breathes out a tiny breath, relieved at the language implying Harry plans to come with him. He can't be sure though. 

Louis points out the huge oak that nears the border of the castle wall. "I was thinking that one. It's pretty close to the one inside the wall and I can climb between the house and the castle without having to go all the way around." 

Harry plants a kiss on his nose and says sweetly. "And what about me? How do I get to and from our home?" 

Okay. Good. Okay... "What, being a demi-god doesn't give you any special powers? Can't tap your inner nature and make the trees bend to your will?" 

"Actually, uhm," Harry says with a furrowed brow, "I can control the weather. Or at least rain and snow," Louis isn't sure what to say so he doesn't respond. "Ever since the portal, I've been thinking about it more. I don't know how long before then that it began, but do you remember it started raining? Then it stopped when you came back?" 

"It was weirdly timed," Louis admits. 

"And it started snowing that day you went missing at the end of Autumn and everything was buried by the time we left Chara's," Harry says as he leans his head back towards the sun with his eyes closed. “I’ve been practicing.”

Louis wipes at a bit of water that slides gracefully down the side of Harry's face and hears the distant patter of drizzle dropping on leaves and looks up. What little sky he can see is full of rain clouds, though he's positive that they weren't around when they came out here. It hasn't even been long enough for them to roll in from somewhere else. Just as quick as they came, the dark clouds disappear. The only evidence that there was rain at all is the water dripping off the leaves onto the forest floor. 

Harry drops his head forward, a green mist falling out of his mouth as he exhales. “How long have you known about that?” Louis asks curiously.

A grimace comes over Harry’s lips as he looks up. “April,” Louis feels his mouth pop open and his eyebrows raise up. An unhappy expression overruns his face as he rushes out an apology. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to add more to our plate and I didn’t know for sure if it was really me or a coincidence that-,”

“Shh,” Louis comforts before laying one of his hands on the side of his best friend’s cheek. “I’m not mad, I promise,” He leans forward and brushes a soft kiss against Harry’s mouth, having to wait no time at all before it’s tenderly returned. Harry breaks away after a minute of kissing that’s not meant to lead to anything and leans his temple on Louis’ shoulder, sighing out contentedly as he cuddles closer.

"We can build you a tree bridge- maybe get Liam to post guards on the castle side and have it treated like an official entrance," Louis continues in a gentle murmur. "And we can charm it to make sure we're the only ones who can cross it."

“Just us,” Harry agrees with smiles tingeing his words. “Only us.”

  


* * *

  


All in all, Louis is thankful for that fateful day in August when the leaves fluttered around his head in a halo as he opened that trap door, because if he hadn't robbed the King blind, the world very well may have stopped turning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! this fic has been an absolute journey for me to go on, and im really excited to finally have it posted. <3
> 
> i have a [visual gallery](https://andersconesgallery.tumblr.com/x) and it's best viewed on browser. the boy's photos are in chronological order and are parallel to the progress in the fic, top to bottom.
> 
> [celia's playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1h0AxitSUh67QgkTIxhOhp)  
> [my spotify ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0Pd4o93KLkbJXMTiJxNsMq) // [ youtube playlist ](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A) (songs linked in fic) 
> 
> shout out to my beta https://userkant.tumblr.com/ and artist celia https://louisprideflag.tumblr.com/
> 
> my tumblr: anderscones.co.vu

**Author's Note:**

> i have a [visual gallery](https://andersconesgallery.tumblr.com/x) and it's best viewed on browser. the boy's photos are in chronological order and are parallel to the progress in the fic, top to bottom.
> 
> [celia's playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1h0AxitSUh67QgkTIxhOhp)  
> [my spotify ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0Pd4o93KLkbJXMTiJxNsMq) // [ youtube playlist ](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLQF898KVg6NKJDpdNoD_M_GdYWzrR8X-A) (songs linked in fic) 
> 
> shout out to my beta https://userkant.tumblr.com/ and artist celia https://louisprideflag.tumblr.com/
> 
> my tumblr: anderscones.co.vu


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